On the Mo, the flowers bloom, and the world is fragrant. The atrium, locked green, is clear. In the abundance of spring, there are flowers in the city, and the clear fragrance of the heart is the fragrance of books dripping with green leaves. The breeze blows lightly, shaking the crystal pearls. The apricot blossoms dance, opening the heartstrings of silence. Since then, the landscape has a charm, time is no longer silent, the sleeves are dyed with the fragrance of flowers, and the eyebrows and eyes are happy.
The world is full of flashiness, and it finally falls into the depths of Meizhang. Spring has a hundred charms and thousands of reds, the world has a bell forest prosperous, in my eyes, it is not as good as a branch of apricot powder in front of the window, it is not as good as a moment of joy in my heart. Maybe the color that is absent has long been integrated into the shallowness of time, maybe the demeanor that is about to leave, has long left aside the joys and sorrows of the years, leaving only an elegant swaying in the depths of the flowers, leaving only a smile to bloom in the clear wind.
Some people say that all encounters in the world are reunions after a long absence. My first encounter with apricot blossoms must have been due to a romantic spring. At that time, maybe I didn't know the origin of "the green poplar smoke is small and cold, and the red apricot branches are in spring", maybe I don't know the affection of "the apricot blossoms are drunk in the light rain, and the flowers return to the old people", and I don't know the elegance of "the apricot blossoms are sparse in the shadows, and the flute is played until dawn", just thinking that the exquisite bones must hide a magical secret, and the faint petals overflow with intoxicating incense.
Love, I don't know what to do, and I go deep. The casual encounter in childhood has become a glimpse of life for thousands of years. Looking forward to spring every year, welcoming spring every year, just to hold a branch of apricot blossoms, look at her beauty, and smell her fragrance. Just to warm a pot of apricot blossom wine, reward a long-lost confidant, and unload the dust of the passing years. Just to go to a wordless agreement, brew a beautiful freehand, embroider the most beautiful full moon.
Spring, gently coming, apricot blossoms, quietly blooming. Each flower is exquisite, a branch is beautiful and dusty, and a tree is elegant. In the mountains and rivers, in the post road broken bridge, in the red fence courtyard, in the bluestone alley, in the urban park, gently blooming, quietly fragrant. I don't know how many passers-by have warmed their eyes, I don't know how many wanderers' thoughts have been soothed, I don't know how many sorrows have been touched, and I don't know how many years of poetry have been nurtured.
I like a touch of pink, just like I like the green and soft heart when I was young, so I frowned, but I was in my heart, and I was not shocked or disturbed, and the wind was light. Nostalgia for the shallow past, like a spring breeze transiting, warms the time, moistens the time, as if the lotus flower does not touch the water, like the sun and the moon do not live in the sky. The years are long, and they can't take away all the past. Be grateful for those simple truths and cherish the slight heartbeat.
Stroll through the promenade of the seasons and listen to the footsteps of the years. Look at a tree of apricot blossoms, blooming on the path of time, swaying out of the intoxicating fragrance, decorating the appearance of youth, and interpreting the style of immortality. I really want to wander in the warm apricot blossom wind like this, forget what time it is, and forget the return date. I really want to revel in the continuous apricot blossom rain, have a leisurely spring dream, and comfort the windy and rainy life.
Time flies, and the seasons come and go. This spring, the sun is strong, the water waves are gentle, the grass and trees are deep, and the world is worth it. I like the depth of time and the true feelings of attachment to apricot blossoms. A clean and icy and jade bones, a cut of elegant and dusty elegant, bathed in the Tang wind and Song Yue, seen the vicissitudes of the sea, from ancient times to the present, blooming in the red dust lane, stationed on the other side of the year, telling the cold and warm of the floating world, accompanying all living beings.
The avenue is simple, and the real water has no fragrance. A touch of fresh and elegant apricot powder is a touching red dust epic. Like a humble gentleman, gentle as jade, there is no luxurious coat, only sincere words. A light interaction, pure as water, comfortable as the wind. Like a surging streamer, quietly gliding by. There is no sound of cooking oil on a blazing fire, only the smell of snow in a silver bowl. Flowing gently, simple and natural, happy and warm.
Thousands of mountains do not ink thousands of autumn paintings, flowing water without strings and thousands of guqin. The beauty of apricot blossoms also has similarities. Her graceful and unfazed elegance quietly contains infinite poetry; her sparse and slanting demeanor gently falls into the gallery of the landscape; her refreshing fragrance permeates the waterfront of time; her quiet and shallow like glass gradually fades away from the vicissitudes of the sun and the moon; her proud bones that are not afraid of the cold tide are slowly recorded in the annals of the passing years.
The best period is like a dream, and the years are warm. The wind is a journey, the rain is more, and the landscape is also calm. Good times, always with a faint fragrance. Eternal attachment is always condensed with gentle anticipation. Flowers bloom thousands of times, and I like a branch of apricot powder. Even if Lin Shen sees a deer one day, he will recall the sparse shadow of apricot blossoms in the moonlight of the lotus pond. Even if one day the frost dyes the maple red, it will pick up the tranquility of the apricot blossoms in the long autumn sky. Even if there is a day when the snow is full of Guanshan, you will encounter the smile of apricot blossoms at the turn of the peak.