One season flowers bloom and disturb dreams, spring rain curtains drip silk

A season of flowers open the wind to disturb the dream, the spring rain curtains dripping silk spring flowers as usual, She Ning flowers and flowers. Zhichun Yan, the phase around the building, like a v. love a few degrees?

The flute starts, the spring rains and the curtains, the remaining sounds are not interrupted, and the heavens shed tears, and the wind drops a few places?

Since I don’t know, I don’t have any news. Although the fish geese are there, how can I send them?

The clothes are thin and thin, the wind disturbs the tears, the spring rain is dripping, and the silk is drooping, which is the love of the acacia and the soul.

--Inscription

The coolness of the spring is cold, and the night is cold and the wind is chilling. For example, the heart of the lotus is to quietly grieve the arms, and listen to the tears outside the window. The noise of the child is like a flower, the memory like a flower wets the dreamlike dream, and the soft heart lingers in the drizzle.

Thousands of mountains and thousands of cages reflect the sun, the blue water and the rain, the shadows of time, still so bleak and safe. In the sorrowful thoughts, the present and the past are entwined and danced, lingering in the fragrant past, the fragrance is fragrant, and the fragrance is wide. When you leave silently, the romantic feelings begin to be immersed in the misty night, once intoxicated by your gentle smile, the moment of happiness has separated me. Once upon a time, the floating rain and fog drenched Acacia, and the lingering rain drenched the faint memories. The thin rain is like a gentle fibrin hand, stroking the sweet dream, and the face in the dream is drunk in your tenderness. Your love is like a leafy boat carrying me to the other side of love...

Flowing water and chilling, listening to the rain by the column, swimming in the curtain of the rain, a few tears and stunned. Take a rain and fog and linger on the fingertips of the passing year, take a look, take a dream, gaze at you, take off the stars, and give you the romance of your love. Swinging the sleeves, sitting and watching the world is cold, why am I with you?

The night window is cold, the rain is misty, the mist is like a gauze, the willow contains clear dew, the smell of flowers is fragrant, the street lamp stone, the butterfly dance flower, the red spot, the mind is moving, the thoughts are full, the drunk spring rhyme. I am used to stop in the world of words to find those lost beauty, keep the silence of a night, take a month of cold, accompanied by a lingering breeze, smell a burst of bleak. One person, one flower, unintentional, this extravagant hope. The deep gaze is full of deep pain, and the dark knot has a lingering sorrow, and the lonely figure is resentful after the glory of the glory. The deep sighs ran aground, and the feelings of low and softness when flowing in the air, the glory of the dying time, Fang Hua finally hangs into a dry back, guarding an unresolved attachment, letting the pain cry, tears stunned, who Will you feel bad?

When everything in the sky is presented, I have come to the horizon without worrying about it, but only to see you the last side, the splendid sorrow, and the messy world. There is only one place left to be smouldering and sorrowful.

When the streamer of the night sings, my sad thoughts are like a flower, but I still have a lot of tears in my mind and body, and the purple strangeness of the clusters is lingering with endless sorrow and grief. Only the dark fragrance floating can not bear the lyrics of the time and hate.

Red dust has dreams, come and go in a hurry, leisurely tens of thousands of kinds, prosperous and exhausted, all become smoke and rain, accompanied by flowers, with flowers thank you, open when gorgeous, go to time to hurt, dreams are difficult to stay! Why, the past, the past, the love is already dusty! The rest of the pillow is so fragrant. Who knows that when I am flying, how many times will there be helplessness? Who knows how many thousands of folds will be broken? Perhaps no one can understand the piece of dying years, filled with disdainful grievances? Only loneliness, such as smoke, stretches and shadows.

Everything is always spring, and flowers bloom in the same year. One season of flowers blooms in the rain of the curtain, carrying the boundless delusion, as if it has condensed the helplessness of too many years. In this splendid and desolate landscape, the scattered petals are the poetry of the mood of the place. The dusty water of a place is a sorrowful and sorrowful singer.

One season of flowers blooms and disturbs dreams, such as the loneliness of violets, and the interpretation of a thousand and charming gestures, with the blue smoke scattered. Silent ferry, deep in the depths, who took the road when it was ridiculous, lingering in the heart, unable to move the ages, the abyss of red dust, how many tears tangled? In the night of Weiyang, the spring curtain is bleak, tears are flying, and a lonely light is heard. A heartfelt speech, quietly missing, scorning water, using a flower to open the time, using two lines of tears, writing sadness into poetry .

Fifth grade: Han Yujia