Red dust dreams, flowers butterfly dreams drunk for a thousand years

"Who loves, the butterfly dream drunk in the flower" | text: Qin Yun Xiaoyu

"The rising light rolls the curtains and stands silently"

/01/

In the middle of the night, listening to the drunken pipa song, letting the dazzling notes brush through the hair, drifting towards a white cloud flowing in the wind, sliding towards the depths of the neon curtain...

The bright moonlight, sitting on the swing of the night, swaying in the deep surroundings, issued the brilliant blue gem light to the messenger of the night, through the five hundred years of mysterious searching, in the deep and shallow qing music, whirling and dancing. By the light or dark moonlight, low eyebrows hand to make fine strings, crisp ding-dong ding-dong, awaken the silent thousand-year-old sleep dream, the dream is faint, play the infinite acacia in the heart, gently murmur your name, your face from far and near, clear and untouchable, sighing alone, the crystal of the eyebrow corner spills all over the ground, helpless, only look at your figure from a distance, do not inferior to your beauty, do not wet your fragrance, do not let the silk dust stain your pure white, let your lilac drift deeper into the sky, The petals fluttering with the wind are as light as a new and colorful silk, and a wisp of rich and delicate wisps is staggered, so you want to make butterflies fly with you...

At the end of the world, the night strings pass through thousands of rivers and mountains, connecting you and where I are, your soft whispers like water, gently tapping my heart, the time is frozen on the second hand, the cold wind is timid outside the clouds, the candle flames sway the warmth, driving away the lonely loneliness, haunting smiles, interspersed in hearty conversations, like the old knowledge of a thousand years of meeting, drinking a pot of old wine, cupping in the cloud pavilion next to the bamboo stream, tasting the thousand-year-old inheritance and the unchanging complex of ten thousand years, long but long.

At this moment, we have a small boat, floating on the romantic Milky Way, cutting the love with the melody of the heartbeat, breaking the loneliness of the night; singing with you, with a passionate love song, floating to the orbit of the stars, bumping out of the passion of the high, and the mountain echo wall, spreading the deep valley cliffs, swirling in the mountains and rivers to interpret the pleasant situation, so that all things are shocked, let the rioters bend over and sigh.

I kept vigil in the middle of the night, thinking that I would not wake up in a drunken dream like this, and condense it into eternal red dust with me. Perhaps, there will be a moment of loneliness to strike, let a trace of loneliness test my patience, perhaps, the wandering fingertips of the dead or hidden or obvious refusal to leave, perhaps the dormant thoughts awaken on the wisteria, perhaps, in the twilight of the twilight, I will follow the golden flowing lakeside, pick a green leaf, or pick an ice flower, cut a bouquet of orange lights, make a kite of Xiangyu, fly the vast blue sky, to find my own sweet dream, carefully care, no longer wandering at the intersection, no longer dazed and boundless sea, No longer walking alone in the Gobi where Shaman is flying, no longer having long sleepless nights, no longer having the reincarnation of the past life that is broken, not seeking to meet the elders, not looking forward to the next life, only in this life you gently treasured in my heart.

/02/

The curtain color of early winter is always permeated with the chill of the night, the palm trees outside the window quietly flutter with a faint fragrance, looking up, the plain ink red note is difficult to send, and the wounds in the heart are worried about the thoughts, wandering in the heart lake, sighing softly. The footsteps of the years are too hurried, so that people have not yet woken up from the haze, the dazzling Shaohua has become the past, a few more sighs and more Zen nostalgia, the beauty is lost in qianqian, only those tear-inducing martyrdom is still faint, in the silent and endless resentment and sorrow of the intestines to grow old.

Sighing at the light passing of youth, a few souls to whom to complain, the tenderness of that model, once blew green Nanxuan's tobacco willows, blew red snow under the plum blossoms, blew a bay of bamboo forest, and blew a lake of sparkling waves. The lonely pen end, writing infinite love and love, holding a soft breeze, gently clinging to your bosom...

The xuguang rolled the curtains, standing silently, sprinkled with Shaohua's window sills, the wind came to me from the warmth, the white cloud in the sky floated gracefully like a clean and dustless white lotus, carrying your eternal love and pity, pouring out to me: "Dear, your light and elegant pen, splashed ink and painted into a pair of gentle painting screens, a que que gentle and beautiful Tang poetry and Song lyrics, a moving and lingering light song, deeply touched the elements that enrich my life, meeting you is a blessing that I have cultivated for five hundred years, and the love of heaven let me have such a you. Let's be the happiest pair of Mandarin ducks in the world! I am on the other shore with the throbbing of your heart, dancing for you the purest, most beautiful and most beautiful ballet in your life, stepping on the beat of dreams, flying with the flying flowers to the distant cape, and then in the harbor you have built for me, holding your warm hands, dancing with the melody of the sea...

You came from ancient times with a smile on the path of pure white and fragrant flowers, holding a bouquet of pink lilies silently walked to my eyes, made an immortal vow for me, love is a journey, you can enjoy the purple and red on both sides, but you can't be confused by the strange flowers and grasses on the side of the road, our destination is a place called the earth and the sky, so you and I will carry our bags on this road that can never fade and want to go.

When alone, in the two-person world embellished with plackets, the rough intention in the hands passes through the affectionate thoughts of you and the longing for you to wear, so that the thoughts melt into the Warren of the years and embroider every movement of the emotional picture.

The blooming lotus of the heart gently rings the blue wind chimes and sings for you in the rhythm of the dream...

Image source network, invasion and deletion

author

Pen name: Qin Yun Xiaoyu. Like to use a plain pen, with words, to warm every lonely soul!

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