Author: Zhang Xueyong
Time, slanting wind, bright sun, falling flowers, flowing water, people. A word, read the return of the swallow, a cloud, falling chickens and dogs smelling each other. Counting the warm and moist years, it is already a deep spring and thin.
Thinking about quiet love, releasing the past, who is my eyebrows and eyes into the poem? Who is my beautiful family making soup? How much love in the world, floating life is fate.
A trip to the mountains, a trip to the water, over the mountains and mountains. Just for that one meeting, shallow joy and deep love. There are too many surprises in life, maybe turn the page and look forward to it, and the rest of your life will be between the water and clouds.
If you like it, even if you don't recover, you still love each other. If love is unforgettable, even if the years are long, you will still be the same.
There is always a person who you meet without regrets in this life, and there is always a meeting that is the spring of your flowers. How many years later, she is still your thinned lovesickness, and she likes it. Look up at the wind and snow, accompanied by poetry, wine, piano and chess.
One person, one city, light lovesickness, quiet love. Some people come to add clothes in winter snow, and some people go to hold umbrellas in summer rain. Who is whose mulberry field? Who is whose sea?
Dip a pen of pear blossom flying snow, ink is clear, paint a stroke of prosperity in the past year, and meet in poetry. You are the waiting of my present life, you are the blank space of my previous life, the joy of the floating life, the fireworks and the warm years.