The street is long and the fireworks are numerous. You turn on the light to look back.
Prosperity falls, one life is full of joys and sorrows, half a life is glorious.
Stepping on the boat in the rain, the mist in the south of the Yangtze River is misty. Whoever hears the Cangsheng playing song just wants peace for the rest of his life.
Holding up a paper umbrella, it is raining lightly in the streets of Nancheng, and there are no people anywhere near the broken bridge.
As time goes by, love never ends. The heart is like a blue silk without a thousand knots.
The elegance refers to quicksand, which will be annihilated and scattered by the wind over the years.
A white jade statue with fragrant wine, stepping on water and falling red lotus, and a long jade chime, this feeling remains the same.
The man in green clothes falls alone, and there is a bodhi tree in front of the door with a red silk knot hanging on it.
The green onion jade finger is wrapped around a red rope knot alone, the moon is swaying, and the shadow is left alone.
A breeze blows in Buddhism, and whoever's words turn into mourning, people are displaced, and the ground is filled with flowers.
On the sad paper, the broken sentences are messy, and the remaining tears are stained with ink and scattered in the wind.