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Thrush poems‖ for whom to translate the acacia song, the eternal love of the red dust, picking a group of mulberries

author:Half Sauvignon Blanc

Picking mulberries. The sound of flutes across the bank. and condensation

The sound of the flute is faint across the bank, and the blowing is also sad? It is also sad to listen. Far and near away from people two broken intestines.

The high-rise Mingyue drank wine in a cup, and he woke up and thought about it. Drunk also think. Love to a few lines of speechless tears.

Thrush poems‖ for whom to translate the acacia song, the eternal love of the red dust, picking a group of mulberries

Picking mulberries. Write Acacia again. and condensation

I'm bored to type idle tonight, and I'm writing acacia. Write Acacia again. Laughing from amorous dreams, but late.

The bead curtain moves the cool moon and frowns. Frowning. The geese have flown high and are gone.

Thrush poems‖ for whom to translate the acacia song, the eternal love of the red dust, picking a group of mulberries

Picking mulberries. Partial and amorous. and condensation

Time urges the old red dust dream, and I don't believe in affection. Partial and amorous. Taste the lovesickness for a lifetime.

It's hard to have a reunion day, and I once thought of it. Memories also were. On the moon, the wine in the west building is poured alone.

Thrush poems‖ for whom to translate the acacia song, the eternal love of the red dust, picking a group of mulberries

Picking mulberries. Peers are passers-by. and condensation

Wandering duckweed at the end of the world, the wind passes without a trace. The rain passed over the remnant clouds. Secretly ask Jiangnan for distant relatives.

The fishing boat is as cold as frost and the moon is like a neighbor of wine. Relive with dreams. Occasionally, peers are passers-by.

Thrush poems‖ for whom to translate the acacia song, the eternal love of the red dust, picking a group of mulberries

Picking mulberries. Eternal love. and condensation

The passing years are a long dream, and the flowers fall silently. The geese are nameless. The sea of people is boundless.

For whom to translate the acacia song, I mistook Qingqing. Wrong in this life. Thousands of red dust eternal love.

Note: The picture comes from the Internet. Infringement must be deleted! Thank you!

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