A dream, a southern misty rain that encounter


Time is like an hourglass, quietly slipped at your fingertips, dressed in autumn, wanton spread in the sky, pour opened my ancient heart。    Perhaps the reason is born in the autumn, the Four Seasons is the most hi this season, a hint of the taste of cold air blows tucked, very suitable for me。    The next day the sky light rain, the slightest rain, the earth was quiet, I sat in the cafe window position, holding a coffee cup draw warm eyes looking out the window, the car to drive to, and those umbrella walking in a hurry passers。    That's when you suddenly appeared in front of me smiled and told me that; think of a word; you look at the scenery on the bridge, and the bridge of people looking at you。You also unwittingly become another man's landscape, right?    Many human world meets the wind, stay a moment, and turned both End of the World。I thought, when breeze blowing your face, will bring pleasant cool for you, but I forgot, the winter cold is biting cold。You say; the end of winter, we go to Cangshan, Erhai, go look at bamboo。Later, into a piece of bamboo shoots together and who would you go shoulder to shoulder people?    Maybe I should feel lucky, because time does not give up, because I can find another self。If thousands of years in the future, if I become a trend, will those fleeting years of Weiyang write a small note, blowing sky, scattered as withered flower。Remember the past, just gently said a sentence: when people say that unusual。Is enough!    The weather is rainy, cold raw quartzite moisture, the grass side of the gap, walk through a spring, a summer, an autumn, in this winter, as if still insisted on a corner, a stable ownership, will have to wait until frost sky, before they agree to wither!I want to book Yimiyangguang autumn, winter, to warm the heart。    Life is unpredictable, difficult to guess the two conditions。Get rid of the half-truths of the inquiry, when I look back room, that had to wait, and truth in the text fall, tear the door gently across the heart, in my eyes, it is poignant, and it is brilliant。And I just have no heart palpitations, drunk in music, words sink in, watching other people's stories, interpreting his own life, his own tears flow in someone else's story。I waved away the once beautiful。    Life, from the naive, flow, turbulence, experience, and finally into a deep lake Autumn, quiet。Like the mind sediment, to be floating clamor salvage, the scent of the mountains and rivers, the clouds are cleared, and then listen to their interpretation, from harvest to comprehend。Think people do not know when to say goodbye, not experienced the ways of the world changes, how will understand, time is so deep, like doing a long, long dream, dream Whispering Color, just fall over, they Pan-yellow, from the branches, winds, on the loose。    You and I met, by accident, or inevitable?God, fate, life in a circle around another person, in which I, in which you also。    A ghost town, locked whose half?Goodbye, broken to pieces whose magic sea heart?Looking at the old courtyard, now dilapidated, see the old break and Yan Yan to go, I can not find the former, the end of time。You are like a small boat a boat voyage, my long-awaited swimming in the sea to your heart。Paper to write fleeting。Love me one day, when we do not break open sky of love, that moment, he has fallen, current World debt encounter this life of love, not about the future, who will accompany who painted on the dot。    That year, at separate sites, tears blurred sight of each other, words than I can say, turned the moment, tears completed sea。    That year I just misty rain。But you love blue sky, so they should be a song。“Sky blue waiting for rain, while you're waiting for me。North and south across thousands of miles, knocker Jalan P.。I remember the year I just go to a blooming alone。And I passed through the southern town but somehow provoke you。You say this world women are interested in writing for the love of Past fallen human spirit。Maybe I'm one of them now。    Walking in the quiet town of style, into the villages of white walls and black tiles, rivers and lakes lake's gentle, quiet town alleys, scenic Yan Liu painting the bridge。Beautiful and passionate Yangtze River Delta, also inadvertently decorated the dreams of others。    Years deep, there is always the vicissitudes of the past。The reality, there are always pros and cons flashy。Do not become a permanent。Bloom again, I will put thoughts drift bottles in the ends of the earth let it drift, waiting docked at the shore, can be elusive and you and me。Jiangnan dream, your Acacia rain, snow I fly。    Years Wei Liang, a long misty rain, wet my memory, that Dai Qing Jiangnan cream color, leaving my gentle lingering dream。That misty rain Meng Meng Jiangnan, blur your eyes slightly thoughts。Tie a half-sad disturb the peace, he heart I also use a quiet gem relatively soft spectrum Qing law。Mo Red, a visitor to the wind, drunk drinking Dreamers, encounter bloom。Dream, each fly piece delicate, the scent of ink, warm feeling safe point drop word。Words at random, not for pen and ink flower, just for Yixing Trent fly。Warm feelings in words, his life comfortable。