The tears of weeping blood become the river of forgetfulness, and the independent sky waits for your arrival.
——Inscription
The dream in the half window, whose thoughts are lightly trailed, whose legend is scented by the flowers blooming on the street, who is pained by the falling flowers in the dream, the misty rain in the dream cannot cover up the broken heart after waking up from alcohol, the fragrance of the heart is burned between the slender fingers, the clear words are light to express the sorrow, the autumn sky is long, the hateful night is difficult to sleep, the lovesickness sprinkled on the ground , I didn't intend for your grass to grow and the orioles to fly, but I was so moved.
I waded through the Luoshui River, through the winds of the Tang Dynasty and the rains of the Song Dynasty, just to rush to the life-and-death agreement with you in my previous life. It seemed like an illusion and seemed real. In the dream, the peach blossom ferry lingered like the sound of a water piano, and your memory floated in the wind. However, where can I find your voice and smile that captivated the country.
When I miss you, I pick up a branch of youth, which turns into the red pink of three generations, and is charming and beautiful for you. Step by step, I sink into the boundless memory of you. The candle is cut from the west window, and the falling flowers on the ground are as melancholy as a dream. The little flowers turn into rows of clear tears. I embrace a wisp of breeze and get drunk with the loneliness. In my drunkenness, I sink in In the dust, a tree of peach blossoms swayed in the night wind. It is said that flowers only bloom for those who cherish them, but for whom are they falling to the end of the world? Tonight, the fallen red becomes a grave that burns and hurts. Whose eyebrows and eyes will it trample on the moonlight, drink the moon thousands of feet, the silent night turns into lovesickness, it is difficult to express a strand of love, the fragments of the past life become the memories to be read carefully in this life. Sorrow is unforgettable, and the thoughts of the past life are torn into threads, turning into a curtain of clear tears that moistens the tenderness.
The dream falls into the world of mortals, and the thin body is like a cold moon. The imprint left by the slightest sound makes the eyes flow freely, washing away the vicissitudes of life in the heart, and drying up the fatigue.
Even though the flowers on the other side are blooming, even though the world of mortals is noisy and chaotic, in the bright moon and clear breeze, I just want to be that man who can see the horizon. Such a lingering scenery was once an unforgettable memory of mine. The full moon in the west tower, a light touch of eyebrows, and infinite soft waves. I will always control your loving eyes and be the only one for you and me, even if the sea turns into a mulberry field.
Memories of the past life, as if they were already old, with fluttering willow silks, the tranquility of the ethereal wind, tears in my eyes, and the whispers of butterflies that swept the quiet night. I searched beside the Sansheng Stone, relying on the parting love in my dream. After all, I could not penetrate the bleakness of the sky, so I gently pulled the lingering sadness into the lyre. The knot, the face in the mirror, thin under the moon, dancing drunkenly, the moss-mottled bluestone road, in the passing of time, faded into a memory like the wind.
The night is dark, the dreamscape is surrounded by flowers, and a tenderness lingers in my heart, a hint of sadness. I hold the pen and brush, while you grind the ink beside me, and chant the graceful grace of my heart into the full style of the paper.
Perhaps, after all, the mortal world cannot tolerate too beautiful a relationship. Even if you are as tender as water, even if my love is infinite, it is difficult to protect you and me in the world of mortals. After all, the regretful eyes cannot retain the unforgettable love. The world in my heart is separated forever, and I look back with tears. That river of forgetfulness is formed by my tears.
Drinking Meng Po soup helplessly, I prayed silently in my heart. If we can meet in the next life, I will hold you in my arms and dress you for the rest of my life. But, please remember me, remember me. On the gazebo, the last lingering and sad look back has long been fixed in my memory. Life after life, I carry my thoughts with me through reincarnation. I travel through the vast world of mortals all the way, just want to find you and my eternal love.
