I know how disturbing this idea is. But what can we do? Without your company, even the words in the book in front of me are transformed into your chic movements and elegant smiles. Looking back at the evening breeze, the uneasy heart will no longer stay in the beautiful words in the book. I look out of the window from time to time to see if there is your figure. Reading is just a gesture, not an escape. It's only been half a day to say goodbye, and it feels like a hundred years. However, do you know that "love" is such a word, simple but complicated, which makes me spend thousands of years exploring and willingly. Because you are the only one I love.
Because of you, I understand that feelings need to be cared for; Because of you, I understand that it is not easy to be together; Because of you, I learned to care in that dream.
In an affectionate photo, you played the flute to accompany me. Suddenly, your flute stopped in the long sunset, and you looked down at me lying drunk on the long steps. Your face was happy. I slowly turned around, and you and I smiled at each other. The long evening breeze brushed your cheeks and my vicissitudes of life yesterday. Facing the prosperity of the present world, I stretch out my hand to unfold a picture of happiness in front of my eyes. In the bright sunshine, you and I hugged each other affectionately and were full of love. Every expectation and waiting is always full of infinite attachment and enthusiasm for you and me.
On the stone chair in the sunset, you and I are shoulder to shoulder, looking forward to you affectionately and watching the tidbits flying in the blue waves. A leaf boat floated gently, and you and I looked at the distant boat with endless romantic feelings!
You said: "I won't miss you because of the change of seasons, I won't miss you because of the distance, I won't alienate you because of busyness, and I won't love you lightly because of the erosion of time."
I looked at you in tears, but I couldn't say a word all the time. I'm afraid you'll turn into smoke as soon as I open my mouth. If I were the wind, I could closely surround you, travel around Qian Shan, watch the ebb and flow of the tide, cherish you for a lifetime and stay in your arms forever. However, nothing can be at the mercy of you and me, and no one can predict what will happen in the next second. Only by living today with your heart will the plan not change.
Today in early spring, life is boring without your company. I buried the past years with tears in my eyes, but I couldn't get rid of the worrying picture in my heart. I was silent in the dream of Jiangnan and the half-life air of love, but I lost my way.
Dream of Jiangnan-Essay Prose 2 Wanderers miss Jiangnan, which is often called in their dreams.
West Lake is always in spring, while Jiangnan is sighing.
Hometown is in the clouds, and memories are scattered on Liu 'an.
Years later, can you not remember Jiangnan?
-item
Xihu chunnuan Feng Chu Yu
At first, the weather was hot and cold, and the spring breeze began. There are few people by the west lake. Willow spits out tender branches and grass stretches out. Xi meets in the sand, and the white snake travels in the spring. The dreamlike south of the Yangtze River is filled with the music of a thousand spring days, and the colorful West Lake in Ana is filled with too much mystery. In the world of mortals, there are countless pairs of footprints that kissed the mud beside the willow tree, and countless pairs of figures that visited the railing of the broken bridge; A pair of slender hands fondled the gentle holy water of the West Lake with regret. Willow waves smell warbler, holding hands to take pictures; Liu Di Zhu Xi, pour out love words; Walking hand in hand on the path of Huagang, leaving a good shadow on the moon in Santan, caressing willow branches at the west cold bridge and reciting poems at the peony pavilion. My dear, in the spring of the West Lake, the warm wind blows frequently and haunts my heart. When I miss you, I look up slightly and watch quietly. The lake is calm, calm. Hehe, that's my dream of Jiangnan with Jun!
Oil-paper umbrella, step by step, watching the water of the West Lake dance in the sky. I feel happy when I fall on my body. Look closely at the pearls dripping from my umbrella. The drizzle does not wet the clothes, but whispers warm the heart. Fireworks in March, grass grows and warblers fly. Who brought my soul to this magnificent waters? The flower umbrella is held in both hands, one in each hand, and you are left and right. Take shelter from the rain under the umbrella, listen to your heart, lean your head on your shoulder and bathe in love. Love is hidden in a secluded lane, and your heart is in my heart. How much do you expect when you look at each other? Can you not feel palpitations! How elegant the spring breeze is all night, the peach blossom rain didn't wet the clothes, and the long drizzle hung in front of my eyes like strings. Who touched my heartstrings, let me chase the wind and dance with flowers, and let me live a dreamlike happiness! There are thousands of pears in my heart, and Xie Liu blows cold and warm air!
Xihu Xiayou Fish Happiness
Small bridges and flowing water, white walls and blue tiles, willow smoke slanting, lotus leaf fields. Clear water fish chat, the bridge bends and people enter the water. You don't say I'm beautiful, just that I'm coming from a poem, with a wisp of gardenia fragrance, and the breeze blows my hair like flowing wicker. We rode along the river in an ark with willow leaves, and our skirts fluttered, sweeping the water, walking through the misty rain and patting the lost days with the sound of oars. The grass is green, the willows are curved, and the dream is Jiangnan; It's dripping, the lane is long, and I'm drunk in Jiangnan. Snuggle up in the charming couple's chair with lush grass and blend into the landscape painting of small bridges and flowing water; Wandering in the beautiful gardens with pavilions and flowers, singing poems and painting, chatting with birds and reading the moon in the water. Short-term separation will also leave a long acacia: short messages urge lotus flowers to shame, love letters fly to the rose show; The phone is turned on with a smiling face, and the dream is lost in Jiangnan. Who doesn't love Jiangnan? How much misty rain, how much charm, how much running water, how much tenderness. I am a beautiful Jiangnan woman in your heart. In your praise, I turned into a lilac-like fairy flavor, leaving an immortal mark in your heart.
Fill a glass of acacia red wine, lips slightly open, slightly drunk, suspected to be tears in Jiangnan dream. Vaguely stalwart shadow, bright eyes lotus seed heart, intoxicating. The curved moon, faint melancholy, gave Jiangnan women a little misty rain and running water. Let you never walk out of the charming water town, the lingering rain lane, the winding willow and the image of cheongsam. Hum the light, there is no psychological rhyme, let the song go out of tune. Everyone says Jiangnan is good, only you know it.
West Lake hurts in autumn and sunset.
The sky is high, the clouds are light and the autumn waters are long. By the west lake, it's cool. The shadow of the residual lotus is condensed, the fish sinks and the leaves are withered, and the setting sun shines. Dissolved sunlight penetrates the leaves, tearing the light into pieces and scattering it all over the lake, which is messy and slightly cool. From the west wind, a pool of fragments is shining, moving with the wind, sad and beautiful, and my heart is trembling: it is not a gently shaking fragment, it is a fragment of words I left behind, it is a fragment of my lost thoughts, and it is a love melody that worries me. It was swept into the water by the autumn wind, and there was a little ink, a little hesitation, and it was finely broken with the wind. Who will take over when the Iraqis are away? How many words are scattered in the net, how many struggles, how many cultivations, and how many fragrances? I saw the West Lake again in my dream today, and I thought of you in the sunset. Slightly raised his head, quietly watching, tears secretly dripping down. The sparkling lake is still, still. Just those hurtful words. What is broken is the hometown that can't go back. I often dream about the mountains and rivers in the south of the Yangtze River. It's not too cold in winter, but it makes me feel so sad!
West Lake Winter Snow Leaving Home
The snow in the West Lake is dazzling and pale. The blue and white light makes people feel awe. Moving the broken steps, I couldn't bear to step on them gently. A feeling of broken jade reached my heart, accompanied by an amazing crunchy sound, which seemed to break my heart. The broken bridge is covered with snow, but Qu Yuan is still white; Huagang Trail leads to Zhulou, the outer building of Santan silver moon House; Walking through the snow, Xun Mei looked at the West Lake from Lingfeng and Leifeng Pagoda, only to see a vast expanse of whiteness.
Carry your bags, bid farewell to your hometown, and count the snowflakes falling slowly. Your tears, my heart is broken, it doesn't matter if I say them against my will, I will sigh the next generation with a wave of my hand. Move the heavy steps bit by bit, give up the attachment in your heart bit by bit, give up the lingering affection bit by bit, move the sad reason bit by bit, and refuse the spoony excuse bit by bit. Pack your bags, be brave and fly away. Tell my parents that I want to wander around and forget what he looks like. ...
The beauty, dreams and heritage of the West Lake
"Sunrise is better than fire, and spring is as blue as blue, so I can't forget Jiangnan." The agile and elegant bridge in the south of the Yangtze River is installed in the hearts of wanderers, which makes people feel relaxed and happy. Can you not forget Jiangnan? My fair lady in the south of the Yangtze River, walking in the melancholy and graceful misty rain, is fascinating. Can you miss Jiangnan? The charming poems in the south of the Yangtze River have been circulated for thousands of years and are still fragrant, which makes people fondle them. Can you not dream of Jiangnan? Jiangnan's parents leaned against the door, and through their eyes looking forward to the return of the wanderer, people were speechless. Will they miss Jiangnan?