The years are long, the time is unharmed, the four seasons are safe, it is the time sentence to read the years, and it is the passage of time to annotate the time. Floating like a dream, the past is unbearable, if you ask about the past, it is all between the pages of the old paper. The old people are unbearable, if you ask the old time, they all fall into the old Xuanjuan.
Life is like a dream, the rest of your life is not long, you don't ask about the past, you don't ask about expectations. In the cycle of time, if the heart is good, the dust is dyed with incense, half of the fireworks are used for life, and half of the poetry is happy. There is a green bamboo forest in the heart, and the eyes are full of spring. With poetry and distance in my heart, I am relieved to walk with fireworks. I always thought that in the depths of the years, the soul is dyed with incense, such as fresh and vivid fireworks, a happy sound of water, the fragrance of a grass and a tree, such as a pleasant and scattered time, a book, a window moon, a long night, a lamp, a pen, where is not the water and clouds.
Half of the shallow flow of the year, half of the paper leisure time. Time is a journey with no return, good and bad, are all landscapes. If you can't be perfect, why not laugh at the situation. The wind and clouds are moving, the flowers are thin, there is a cup of tea under the moon, and the long night is happy. The light ink book has passed for many years, and the time is half shallow. The most beautiful thing in life is the rotation of the four seasons, the flowers bloom and the grass grows, there are colorful wildflowers in the long path, and in the short time, there are poems of morning and twilight.
Secluded village, born and raised in Si. Miscellaneous trees grow flowers, warblers fly and grass grow. A wisp of cooking smoke can be drunk in the morning, a bird's cry, and a beautiful pillow of dreams. A little leisure, a small scene, enough to pick up a pen and paint for the rest of your life. Occasionally sit on the balcony and surround a mountain of years. The wind sends a small poem, and a cup of tea among the flowers is a page of time and flowers.
A period of fragrant boiled Qinghuan, Qinghuan a taste of tea, only to know that it is not stained.
A light of tea respects the mulberry field, so that life, a wisp of glitz, let the world, leave half of the joy, so that the state of mind, bright as water, light as tea, quiet as Zen.
A trivial place to cook fireworks, fireworks boil the taste of the world, Fang Jue has warmth.
A bowl of fireworks tells the love of long, makes life, a little more temperature, makes the years, less sad or two, and makes the rest of the life lively, leisurely, and poetic.
The years always slip away unconsciously, sneaking into the dusk, hidden in the morning sun, faint as clouds, hidden in the passing years. The years will eventually fade away, and eventually fade away. That's only, don't think about the glitz of the years, don't think about the ups and downs of time, don't think about the past, don't fear the future.
I like the warmth of the years, word by word, recording the bits and pieces of life, softening the time, the years are whispering, telling the story of time. I like the appearance of graffiti in life, a scroll and a scroll, a grass and a tree flowing with the soul, warming the passing years, the footsteps of time, leaving the mark of growth.
The rest of your life is not long, be kind to yourself, live up to the time, and do it and cherish it.
May the rest of my life see the world with a pure heart, live with a happy heart, live with a normal heart, and the days are always gentle and shining.