Good work, or sin, romantic style, the painting boat swung gently upturned Rong Hua. Hide the years, dance the sleeves of the water sleeves, and lengthen the branches of the soul. In the end, he always softly resolute and washed away all the sins of my life. Escaping from worldly robbery, I went from flowers to flowers. I went through the gauze at the sound of the piano. Leaving only, the more strange and legendary. The blue print, the wind fade away. Turning hands is a continuous drizzle that makes people forget. In the same year, I was in Langya golden feather, flute. Before I was sorry, I paid my attention to the wind and sand.
The blue sky and the air, the white temple. I hope there is a person who does not care about the replacement and melting of the years. I wash my eyes and pour the red dust into the cup. I would like to drink a cup of wine. Turn over the mistake of this year, and ask for a place to rest. Through the thousand layers of snow, the old dream was awakened. But I was no longer the arrogant teenager of that year. The red dust becomes the grave, and the rise and fall is instant dissolving. In a trance, the vicissitudes passed away and turned around. A flourishing age is as light as an Epiphyllum. Seeing all the joys and sorrows of the world, the rest of life will not mind the red makeup. Many stories swam on the riverside of the Acacia. You believe, be good, do not believe, the right to pass by. In the title page of the story, we are all the branches of time. No matter how dazzling you are, you are just a passer-by. Walking into the break of years, drained away the wind and sand.
Fenghua is a flow of sand, old age is a period of time. Heaven and earth prove that even if the wind is exhausted, I must live gracefully. I am a lonely star outside the dust. It never changes. Fenghua faded, a sand flow, the rest is three thousand ink, I thrive. The wind is fading, and the sand flows away.