In the morning, I am used to being woken up by the singing of birds outside the window. Open the green curtain, and a beam of oblique light shines on your hair. Light jasmine fragrance, delicate flower buds. Such as the jade buckle on the green lapel, the coolness of the branches, and the dreamland on the pillow. The clouds in the distant sky, like a lonely and happy poem, floated quietly and drifted away.

The moonlight that accompanied the journey also changed its appearance.

All transience and eternity are covered by a clear stream.

The warm morning in my memory comes from a sunny pond. Carrying buckets of water, watering plants and watering greenhouses with dreams. I think; Soon, when a clear smile blooms before dawn. Sensitive heart, will drop a drop of crystal. I will also carefully record your light and handsome appearance.

Birds sing in the morning and the windows are clear. The four seasons are always so orderly, dry and prosperous, relaxed and comfortable. An idea of bloom, an idea of bloom. I stand in this shallow corner, still always so slow. It is a dream story to gently pick up the thoughts wet by rain and dew and wear them as a bead curtain. Quietly write down the fine print of our show, shallow and wet.

A drop of clear dew dances in the dark fragrance. The picture scroll in memory, like the quiet side of the fleeting time, records our story.

In the rush of time, that ray of hope, in the cycle of reincarnation, disappeared and concentrated.

Listening through the distance, listening through the rain, thinking through the other shore, warm dreams. Take out some past events, as clear as yesterday. For a while, a curtain of dreams, a little color at the fingertips. Your shadow, flying into the past, stained with some old times. The shadow of that life was faint and fragrant, and the shallow thoughts became a scene, which finally merged into a heart song. Just waiting for acacia, waiting for the golden time, you come to find your dream. ...

In the clear summer, the south wind blows the temples and the water clouds are around. A lake of smoke, the fragrance is dark in my arms. I will reward you with a lake in a calm way. The endless Lv Yun stretches, a wisp of warm fragrance lingers, the eyebrows and the bottom of my heart, and the beautiful melody forms an flawless lotus flower in the charming scenery. Indulged in the shallow songs of a fog, the graceful voice covered up a little tiredness in the world of mortals, and quietly drifted past the stranded past with the wind. ...

A flower and a world, a lake and a mountain, in the wind, browse all kinds of scenery, green mountains and clear waters, a water rhyme into the heart. A shallow smile turns the dream brewed in my heart into the most beautiful scenery in time.

Blue sky, clouds as elegant as Youlong; The wind plays the piano, and Liu Pian is surprised. Looking from a distance, it is picturesque out of context, drawing a picture at a stroke, outlining the tranquility of Shan Ye. Pushing open the window, I feel fresh and fragrant, slightly drunk, ashamed of summer fantasies. In the faint courtyard, several butterflies are dancing around the delicate pomegranate flowers with thin wings. Durian is green, and the durian at the end of the green strip is swayed by the gentle wind; Pomegranate is gorgeous and colorful, and the beautiful flower shadow stirs my heart. Perhaps, the world of mortals is as thin as a fiber, sitting quietly under a dreamy flower tree and enjoying that clear cloud is not a realm. ...

Embrace a glazed heart, a poem, a silence, and steal some leisure to clean up the dust in the spiritual space. Thank you for the subtle beauty in life, and thank you for the ordinary touch that the years have given me. Twist a finger at the fragrance of flowers, twist a mandrel to accept the washing of nature, and let anxiety return to tranquility in the ethereal wind; Let the dull days be smeared with a flowing cloud; Let thoughts fly in the beautiful scenery; Let the mood return to the coolness and tranquility in nature. No matter what is waiting for me at the next intersection, whether it is relentless wind and rain or flowers all over the road, I will gladly accept it, touch the brilliance of xia yang, and try to paint it gently into a picture of life full of flowers.

Time is quiet, through the world of mortals, clouds and ink painting shadows, I plucked the strings to play a song of high mountains and flowing water, all for that encounter, singing empty Wan Li, at first glance seems to have been integrated. When the sun and the moon alternate, it becomes a year. Looking back at every morning's company, I have a long talk with you, deep and shallow, thick and light, like a clear spring flowing in a cave, overflowing my heart, and as fragrant as tea, everything is engraved in my heart with time. ...

The clouds dispersed and gathered at dusk. A clear first quarter moon hangs on the horizon, which seems to still this watery time. Dispel the wind slightly and smell the rich aroma of gardenia lightly, which is cool and calm. Mu Yan read lightly in the moonlight. The flower-like core flutters gently in the wind. After that, there was no sound, and finally it was late summer.

Sunset rain is the warmth of a dream outside the window. Under the eaves, with slow or urgent dance steps, the ethereal and tender feelings of the season are integrated into all things in nature, which is the jumping and joy of the fish on the cloud returning to the ocean. Therefore, the sunset glow becomes wonderful music, gently telling the story of clouds caused by rain in the sky. ...

At the moment when the heart spreads its wings, the wish has already started and is on the way. We passed here quietly, and the bench was surrounded by flowers, romantic and carefree. ...