The breeze is setting in the sun, and the stream is blue and the face is locked; Who is in the spring where the flowers bloom, such as orchid, loneliness and fragrance, such as plum, silence and Eaglewood? Who danced Ruoxue dream? Looking back, it was a thousand years? Mo Wen, is meeting fate or robbery? A persistent thought, a flower, floating in the corner of the world of mortals, warm fleeting time. A flower, a world, a city. The spring of March is like love, which suddenly comes and goes. The mood is capricious. No matter it is warm or cold, you still bloom willfully, throwing everything away, including me; And I, just like the light grass, looking up, your elegant plain face; And the beauty of the breeze passing by, lowering your head. Reading you is like a piece of falling Tang Poetry and Song poetry; In your colorful world, I can’t walk in; I only wish to accompany you through a lonely city. One thought becomes Buddha, one thought becomes devil; The moment flowers bloom and fall, those flowers bloom in the spring breeze, fall into memories; Those things, after experiencing, understand the taste of pain; That person, only when you live in your heart can you know the color of your missing. Thinking of you is like an invisible net in the dark night; There were several times when the stars rose and the moon fell, and there were several times when the snow fell and the rain fell, writing with thick ink and lines of tearful words. Floating Life is like a dream, quiet and quiet; Standing on the other side of the years, the shallow pen is quiet, dreams and craziness, laughter and tears, then quietly murmured into memories. Maybe one day, we are all old, but I will still remember the beauty you made me move.

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