You say, "I am the strings of the qinser, playing a finger of the palace merchant, inviting butterflies and swallows to compare wings, and playing summer in ensembles." ”
I said, "You are the clouds and smoke of an April day, the softness of the wind blowing at dusk, the stars flickering inadvertently, and the drizzle sprinkling in front of the flowers." ”
The summer light is hot, the flowers are scorching, the moon is red, the peony is red, the jasmine is as white as snow dip, the sunflower is yellow and golden, the azalea, the white jade hairpin, are all so bright, and the happy life is not far away from us. - Preface
In the summer, the flowers smile like lotuses, the butterflies fly like immortals, the wind blows willow branches, dances with the wind and hangs, the clouds flutter and the water babbles, drunk on the sun, and lost in the sunset.
In the summer light, a rain of petals splashed, wetting my pomegranate skirt, letting you see that I was shy and shy, you said that I smiled like Chan Juan, is hope, is warmth, is a phoenix, is a flying swallow, is your love.
The rain came too suddenly, and before you could miss me, you wet your clothes, a acacia fan, how to let go of the starry night that thought of me, it was sleepless, but also a long sigh. Only by looking into my clear eyes will your rolled-up clouds of sorrow dissipate in my waves. It's a romance, it's a touch of bondage, it's a gentle face, it's your joy.
Dawn woke up, and the moonlight in the hazy light was still so shallow. In the dream of smoke and rain in Jiangnan, in the dream Xiaoxiang met, often dreaming of you and me intimate, you count the stars flashing and flashing, I painted the moon half and a half, with such a simple, even if I have a small temper flip, I can't resist your jokes to make me happy.
You say you want to become a kitten lying on my shoulder, so willing to be my follower, if I am well, you are the spring breeze infinite, when you say you love me, I am your poetry selection, leaning on the end of your pen, when I say I think of you, you are my porcelain bowl, holding my good rice, the days together are always sunny, those love words are swallow's whispers, let the Sanskrit sounds linger in each other's ears, feel the surging of the sea, the blue of the sky.
Life encounters distress and sorrow, as long as you see you slow down, your heart is light, the voice is slow, the bodhisattva is flat, and the cocoon is made in the incense. Waiting for you to cut the Mandarin duck, waiting for you to burn the red candle, waiting for me to draw the eyebrows, waiting for me to pull the happiness. I wish that this life would be only like the first sight, reminiscing about the past, drunk and happy in a stack of poetry. Dream hunting, lotus step model, when the flowers bloom brilliantly, the wind rises for another year.