In the middle of the summer night, the evening breeze is slightly cool, the drizzle washes the smoke and dust, the nine-mile flowers bloom all over the court, and the fragrance of flowers is lush and intoxicating life. The wind moves the curtains, the rain knocks on the window, and there is no sleep. A curtain of smoke and rain sends a dream, and three thousand prosperous clouds are like floating clouds.
The grass is green, swaying with the wind, I can hear the sound of frogs, I can hear the sound of insects, the sound of wind and rain, the sound of insects, and the sound of sleep with me. Mo on the flowers bloom and think of the rain, and the flowers bloom and fall into a song. After the rain, the mountains are quiet, and the rain is also sunny. Occasionally, there is a moment of silence in the rain, flipping through the imprints of time.
The rain of the summer night came and went in a hurry. A storm, dripping with joy. Water drops from the past, falling flowers all over the ground, is it the wind and rain that destroy the falling flowers? Is it the falling flowers that cause the rain?
The rain in this world, through thousands of years, has become half prosperous, and half has fallen into dust. A curtain of smoke and rain sends a dream, and three thousand prosperous clouds are like floating clouds. Occasionally, there was a moment of silence in the rain, lying on the bed and listening to the sound of the rain. How much of the past is like smoke and rain, passing away with the wind; How much sorrow, like a drizzle, quietly disappeared.
In the rainy season, I always look forward to that ray of sunshine, get up in the morning to see the morning glow, watch the sunset at dusk, and enjoy the bright moon at night. Now that I think about it, the smoke and rain in the middle of the mountain are half a day, and it is a good time to listen to the rain and fall asleep.
In this summer night when insects and frogs are chirping, in this season of smoke and rain like a dream, listen to the wind and rain and fall asleep leisurely. Give the gentleness of the breeze to the passing years, give the joy of life to the seasons, play the years with the wonderful sound of rain, spend your life together with the hazy smoke and rain, cut the colorful time with thousands of thoughts, and depict the long love with poetry and painting.
A flower and a grass are all paintings, and a smoke and dust fall into a poem. Listening to the rain in the quiet night, there are countless victories in the world, wind and rain are intertwined, the cool breeze is soft, and there is a coolness of its own. The season is shallow, the years are like water, the time is traceless, the smoke and rain sneak into the dream, calming the anxiety of life, soothing the inner sorrow, the tenderness of time, and the long river of the years comes slowly.
Cut a piece of poetry, cut a volume of paintings, send love to the mountains and countryside, cut a meter of sunshine, pick up two or two falling flowers, brew a trace of sweetness, add sweetness to life, and solve a hundred hardships with sweetness; Take a wisp of breeze, hug three or two smoke and rain, brew a pot of tenderness, gentle to the years, and get drunk to relieve a thousand sorrows; Pick a morning dew, pick five taels of floating clouds, make a pot of warm tea, warm and comforting life, a cup of rest.
Summer is getting longer and time is flying. The years increase the fragrance, and the rest of the life is shallow. Parasitic in the landscape, a trip to the mountains, a trip to the water, all through the spring and autumn, can not keep the years, can not lock the time; Don't ask about the past, smile and let go, and live up to the time. Ten thousand bamboos are verdant and green, and they meet in the bamboo forest after dusk. The bamboo forest listens to the sound of the wind hitting the leaves, and looks at the green.
The years of writing the book, downplaying the fireworks, every word and line is a poem, and a scene at the age of one is an ink painting. There is always a person who writes poems, and there is always a scene into the painting. There is always a cup of tea to comfort your life. In the sparkling poetry book, a line of poems, a cup of tea, watching the wind blow and the clouds, listening to the clouds falling into rain, looking for the passing years, chasing the time, and gossiping about the poems between the understatements.
Time is shallow, and the years are happy. Life is so good, listening to the wind and rain at night, the wind and rain are a dream, a dream is thousands of miles, a dream is a floating life. May all things be peaceful and the years be quiet.