From the beginning, like a glass of wine, let me slowly drunk.
Which the first song, a painting, are accidental, but has a natural mystery.
Water, moonlight, along the way, we perceive the consonance of the existence and good, bit by bit memory greet spring blooming flower, pretty, rich, our Love of Things Past as a brilliant one in silver.
Lifting the water, it is your passionate eyes, silently flowing; Misty to mountains, spread gently with your thoughts, gazing at the soaring ...... the Department, I was pleasantly surprised!
Never deliberately painted, had not a thousand words, a hi, a sad one injury Yi Tan, such as the familiar concept of dialogue in mind, every cell with a surge in blood.
Wound, in the depths of the soul; touch the edge of thinking. Who is Who in the flower? Who is Who in the fruit? Are no longer important.
When I approached you from a dream with a smile, firmly grasp each other's hands, everything is so calm, warm heart.
No mention of the past, do not ask in the future, peace of mind to go with you, regardless of horizon, or the Cape, sharing each Zhao Mu, a warmth in the waves in each ......
Has been, you like a picture, let me happy; like a flower, a crescent, breathtakingly. But it is not all! A dear and beloved Emotion person, a family is not worth a loved one, look at you and I can not stay for you, to you, near you, and you stand in a landscape, because my eyes no longer see other people's beautiful!
Winter night cold and cool as promise, but not easy to sleep, lest you miss the eras missed.
How resistant Ho: "The River, You live at the end of the Yangtze River, day thinking Do not you see Jun, empty on a river," Love not send office, but also more eager for a few minutes, long night, long missing, disappeared roots. Dark a youthful, old, blue sky.
Little window light Lanna, Bihaiqingtian, see the thoughts were like my heart, take a red-ling, and tears hanging pillow.
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