Maybe, at the first encounter, you don't know, I am waiting for you. But I want to tell you, I have been waiting for you for a long time, waiting for you in the bright spring, waiting for you at the ferry in full bloom.
The willow branches are swaying gently, the birds are talking about the flowers, the warm wind and the green grass, and before the flowers bloom, I am holding Tang poetry, Song poetry, and Yuan Qu, floating leisurely under the bright moonlight. For you, I have waited for millennia, followed the text, and walked through the years of reincarnation. Ranch
I deliberately gave myself a name that I sang, hoping that I would be smiling with simple happiness, and hope that I would be as quiet as the beginning, even if there was no river, but I felt the name with a smile. Just like his own character, he doesn't like publicity, he just likes to flow between the gorgeous text, and precipitates a rainbow-like dream. He also used to smile and wash his sorrow. Still accustomed to being lost in loneliness and blowing away the fireworks of the world, in one's night, pushing the inner emotions, the lonely thoughts, unexpectedly sadness.
Looking at the twinkling lights in the window, which one is the heart lamp that guides me?
I am waiting for you in the spring, and I often involuntarily outline the situation of willow smoke with green, flowers falling like rain, and purple swallows flying together. With a wish of mountains and rivers, I portrayed a surprise of encounter. One party knows each other in space, and has a chance to become a confidant. Perhaps it is the experience that should be carried in life that accumulates the maturity of life. In the decline and bloom of life, it is unavoidable to sink, it is difficult to maintain the peace and elegance in the heart. So, suppressing the inner desires, regardless of the incomprehensible shyness, hovering at the intersection where you are, because I know that you will definitely come.
You did come, at the intersection where we met. In your dream, your clothes are fluttering faintly, and there is a heart full of hopeful peach blossom woman holding a residual fragrance in your hand, quietly following the water. In the high mountains and flowing water, the snow turned into water instantly, and Amami just threw to the gorgeous side of the city. You don't say anything, I don't say anything, you play the piano, I sit still, you write, I'm obsessed. The scattered green silk fluttered and danced in the breeze, across the petals in the air, and drunk for a season.
For thousands of years of reincarnation, spring flowers and autumn months are only separated by a season. A plain paper, bearing the mist of the eyes, the thoughts of the ink and ink fragrance spread from a ray of toad light from the fingertips. The sleeves are fluttering, and in the afterlife, who will solve it today? It's always those messy things that make people dream. No one saw my heart rain falling into the painful words. The longer the meditation, the more the heart rain will flow. In loneliness, smear your story with messy text. Floating like a dream, picking up a few drops of watch, in exchange for the land in the dream.
I'll wait for you in the spring. If you can make your life look good, then I am willing to wait slowly in this season.