Jidi, wind in the leaves Jianfei, Petals drop and waters flow. if Joseph, who deeper? Finally, a gust of wind, no notification is sent the spring season, who still flick do?
Summer, dressed in jeans and a shirt, combed her long ponytail, almost all the attractions of the town. The skin in the sun, also became a wheat color, I do not hate myself, because I get close to nature in a step by step, close to the quiet.
Backstreet, with one lane River, every day I have to stay for a while. The river, there will be little boat of tourists, so time is silent, only scattered waterfowl, fly up, down, try some what. Little willow, fell into the water, and the wind was gently raise. The summer, sun is always late, or, I deliberately prolonged the time, the scattered Tianya people out of memory, and a sunny, warm heart.
Do not remember the heat of the day, as if the summer does not have hot, noisy cicadas, but also the forest out of chapter. In the morning, the sun sank back, at this time, the sun just can fall on the stone bridge, the river Jin Bo, deep green, green willow is attractive. For the summer, only the memory is so much.
If there are some picture, that is the academy and the ancient temple. They are the river across, be busy over, only after a stone bridge, or walk a lonely road entrance to find something.
The dusk, find a stone bench, sit at the end of the Yu Guangzhong, looked at the crowd, approached, and left. Day, slowly and gently, every second, is containing the sunset. No one worth bearing in mind, not a corner, special scenery placement, chasing a wind left, I figure, in the sunset Lilade very long, very long, like a century long.
The friends said, if not put, will go to the Jiangnan Nong Xiang walk, listen to the samisen iambic, visit the temple, with a cup of tea time, give oneself to the soft warm, to silence.
Be in smooth water, the original but is the heart of the quiet. In a late Yang Yu Guangzhong, finally, will cut away the wind, a carefree cloud see, see. The quiet house, as the original beauty still, there is wind, rain, sun, everything goes on, like is unintentional, but never less delicate. Such along time, go all the way, in the distance, and a piece of scenery is not see.
Walking, is engraved in the years. The bell Hanshan Temple, again and again, I wake up the memory of the former, if sleep, perhaps, a pine, the benefit of a Duan Yuangu.
A handful of quicksand, is you, is me, will be on time, into the deep sea area.