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By wet village


Layers of good dream like mist, hang over the whole south. Green flag, the rain lane, lonely poet, the lilac girl. In fact, turned around, but the whole spring Dream beauty pro.

Wanted to like dai, pursue the dream of the lilac girl. The oiled paper umbrella, is in the dream of who has been waiting for the thousands of reincarnation? Jiangnan rain is falling, the poet's love is hazy.

"At ease" light fog, fine silk rain like endless sorrow." In fact, the most beautiful season should be spring sunset. Little by little fly over water, the ends of the earth, the daily evening. This time, alone wander alone ". Jiangnan evening the dim moonlight, also hazy throughout the years. Especially those who like dai and youth. The oiled paper umbrella, a poem, then warm the jiangnan, how much warmth and scholar's hesitation.

"I walk through, jiangnan the and so on in the season of appearance such as lotus open." I still like that YanLiu draw bridge wind curtain cui act deeply the chiangnan alley courtyard, in order to round a one thousand jiangnan dream in my heart. A west European music, drunk spring breeze, drunk tourists, also drunk the whole world. I know, where someone is waiting for me. In the purdah compound, beside the fallen petal flowing water. The young beauty of flowers general appearance and gaze bar. The horizon far far away, HKUE ENG still apply colours to a drawing of the jiangnan tenderness.

S and silently season, drifted off. So, you alone with the jiangnan rain lane. A person, an umbrella. Like an old song. That failed Pi bobbed, reflect your eyeful of cut. Alley, a long, narrow, and is a light rain was falling. Little by little rain like a dream, gentle your whole bun.

Far, far away, came a woman. Like you, a grain, a handful of oiled paper umbrella. The complaint, direction, and the tragic, clove. Gently, gently from your past. Looked at your one eye, and then see your heart of sorrow and regret. You get wet in the rain of the jiangnan, when you look back, the woman has already gone far, go far, until finally, out of the rain lane. Poet ah, you and I are going to have to understand, people passing by, is just a passing wind.

The rain stopped, but there has been no umbrella, with an umbrella, floating in the jiangnan rain lane. Very poetic scenery very frustrated, just like zheng sorrow to wrote: dongfeng, march catkin don't fly, your heart is a little lonely city, just if bluestone street evening; QiongYin not ring, the curtain of the spring is not jie, your heart is little casement window mask. At this moment, but in your heart, have a clove dream. Melancholy of the jiangnan, sighing for you.

Person's life, not only once in the rain lane. In those days, can't see the future, can't see the direction. Even even in the rain, in the sky even the land of mist, always thick wipe not to go. Then, an umbrella, a dream, became all of you. Like a dream, soft soft, can't tell dream and true. But just want to drunk at this moment, never wake up Dream beauty pro.

Chen zi-ang chutangsijie have such a poem "taken" : has the day night, curled up the autumn wind, the old China shake, fang unexpectedly He Cheng. Indeed, it is the wake up. Jiangnan scenery is attractive, but also make people sad. "Drunk" warm wind fumigated tourists "visitors are only jiangnan old". Time easy to throw people, but we will always remember the memory of red cherry, green banana.

Facing such as moss, sunset into the snow. Seems to be coming of age at 20 40 s, already forget belong to jiangnan age in the game. But in around 50 s 16, is a passionate and will miss the jiangnan dream. Through the rain lane, out of the jiangnan, towards the MoBei, towards the north in the spring.

Its moments of beauty, the grape wine. However, the poet's glass, take up but can not let go nuskin.

A rain lane's jiangnan, scenery is fragile, scene in the buff.

A QuJiangNa, into the world of mortals dream, dream wake up, the poem love who?
PR

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