Icy red dust, sigh in my heart Time flies, the wind brings the coldness of early winter with the bleakness of autumn, and the days when the fallen leaves are flying always give people a little sadness and inexplicable melancholy. Perhaps it was the season that directed this poignant scene, and perhaps it was the years that painted this misty and rainy picture, which made my world suddenly lose its color. When I look back suddenly, I see sadness all over the sky, piece by piece...

Time, if a bay of tranquil water reflects the past fleeting years, flowing through spring, autumn, winter and summer, soaking every day and night. I saw all the glitz in the morning breeze and the evening rain, and I fell into the amorous cliff that is beyond redemption. So in the long years, I held a fresh breeze in my arms, embraced a bright moon, and wrote down the youthful years that are getting old. Looking back, turning around, I saw the sentimentality of the years peeling off again. The Chinese years are like water, and the youth that has passed by has gradually faded away. There are only some unforgettable points in the memory, which are connected into a line of sadness, and compose a mournful and moving melody in the changing seasons, so beautiful, but So tearful again. It was as if he was far away from the world and faded away from lovesickness. From then on, he exiled himself to follow the waves in the long river of time, and his weak writing seemed so pale and powerless. The west wind lost weight of lovesickness, rolled up the fallen leaves, and was helpless in a mess. The yellowed memories are also scattered with the wind, spreading a season of shallow sadness. Maybe, after all, it is a mirror, and it is destined to be a passing glance after only one occasional rubbing shoulder, that's all! Why? The willow flowers are like a dream, and Yanyue has always been sad. Today, thousands of sails have passed, and the memories left by the years are still vivid in my mind, as if the bell in the morning woke up the dream of last night, only a few drops of cold tears soaked on the pillow, cooling my heart. Years have stranded the past, leaving a person sad, I counted the time in the darkness, waiting for the next dawn.

In the evening of early winter, the setting sun reflected the clouds and the mountains in the distance, and occasionally a lone wild goose flew by, which looked particularly desolate. I can't help feeling the vicissitudes of life and the coldness of the world. Perhaps, since then, I have become tired of the world, converted to the green lamp, and have no desires or desires since then. It's just that the three thousand blue silks are still tied with love and sorrow, and they are constantly being chopped up, and their rationality is still messed up! The wind and rain roared toward the sky on the Mo, and the sun and the moon in the pot were ten miles away. It's a pity that the bright moon in the bright night sky and the sky darkened the stars outside the window during the long night. Before the case, a lone light slanted shadow. The moment I lowered my eyebrows, I soaked in the lovesickness that I wrote down a piece of paper. I think it is the fault of the world. The beautiful family members like flowers can't resist the wasting of time. Thinking about it, in the long years, I took a pot to indifferently watch the clouds and clouds, and brewed a cup of strong tea in the sound of long flowing water to enjoy the flowers blooming. And the perseverance and deep affection in the drifting wind still tell the four seasons that they will never leave, and that they will depend on life and death for the years. After that, with time gradually getting old. It turned out that those deep and shallow memories and those intermittent pictures were just a glimpse of the sunset, a sadness under the spring flowers and autumn moon, so desolate and heart-wrenching. I stood in front of the window, and under the bright moonlight, your beautiful and beautiful face seemed to appear again, with a smile like a flower, and then, the wind dissipated the world.

Now tenderness has no place to send, empty Xu Xiangsi soaks in the moonlight. Outside the window, the wind is still slanting. Perhaps, it was just a glimpse of the misty red dust in the dream, and I made a promise that this life will remain unchanged. In the change of autumn and winter, I saw the countless sadness caused by the flying flowers and leaves, and in the morning and evening, I let you gradually fade away Go further away. Gathering indefinitely! I am just a full moon in the southern sky, unable to reach the twilight in the northern sky. Under the curtain of night, it is no longer the glazed painting of the scenery that once was as beautiful as a dream. What remains is only the mournful grief of the wind passing over the willow and the lonely shadow looking at the end of the world. The faint night is dyed with lovesickness, Xiaoxiao cold wind blows leisurely sorrow. I don't have the elegant talent to sprinkle ink into poetry, and the vast pen can't write all the sorrows under the moon and all the obsessions in my heart, so I lazily lean against the window and let the cold wind caress my face and freeze my heart. Is this the case, the thoughts will not penetrate the bones, and the sadness will not spread? I came here by dream, like a speck of dust, lingering under the moon before the flowers, drifting in the wind by the willows, just because I don't want to let go of the glance you left inadvertently. I rested with the wind, floating in the past fleeting years, wandering among the flying flowers and leaves, just to chase the helplessness when you left. I know that you can only be a beautiful scenery in my life after all, and you are getting farther and farther away from me as time flies. Those years are always the deep sea that I can't swim. Under the darkness of the night, the sadness is surging, the cool wind is blowing, and the lovesickness that is rolled up and drawn under the pen pervades the whole night, fluttering and lasting for a long time. It turns out that happiness is so short and longing is so long. The quiet moonlight is actually the wound you shed. It is tender and watery, and it leaves a hundred holes full of wounds. The flowing blood soaked the maple leaves in the mountains and turned into red drops of rain. I often think of the choice you made when you left in that cold winter. If the autumn wind blows away, and the curtain of winter is opened, the little bit of sunshine in my heart has long been washed away. I walked forward with a heavy burden of injuries over the years, getting farther and farther away from the lights of the world. But never remember, when is your return date?

My world is cloudy and sad, like a setting sun in winter, heavy and desolate. With endless persistence, I roamed the world by the lakeside, accompanied by the shadow and the moon, and let the cold wind blow through the pain in my heart again and again. Since then, I have been intoxicated by the moonlight, buried my wounds in my heart, and never mentioned those pasts. Your sky, bright and clear, is a mirage that I can't touch, a shadow that is ethereal and nothing, and can't be shaken away. Now, I just want to see the red dust through the years, and take care of the flowers with a calm heart. Since then, I will walk in the rain and forget the past in the long years. Memories that cannot be washed away are like shadows that cannot be lost under the moon. They always come leisurely when the night rises. I vaguely remember yesterday that the moon was bright and the stars were sparse, the wind was slender and the willows were slanted, and I held hands with you to see the dark night of the lake. But now, Yuehua is still the same, who is looking at Liu Qian by the lake? In the splendid years, the past is still swaying and drifting in the vast red dust. It's like the beauty after the blooming flowers disappears in an instant, and it's like the silence after the hustle and bustle. So, I will spend my whole life to dilute this love, and spend my whole life to baptize this scarred heart. And you, after all, can only be a passing visitor in my life, I can't reach the moment of warmth drifting in the wind and your soft smile that cuts the smoke willow. I once thought that time will take everything away, when the youth is gone, only the fleeting events are left in the gap between the four seasons. After going through the beauty of spring, the heat of summer, and the bleakness of autumn, now, let this cold winter solidify the graceful feelings of wandering around the world, and deal with the coldness of this world with a cold heart. From then on, I sighed in my heart and knew the warmth and warmth. Even if I go through hardships and rains, I can't recover the past, and my pen will never be able to write the vastness of this world. It is better to forget this ending, whisper a song of the wind and the willows, and let that flower affair murmur in the wind, just like this desolate winter.

Icy red dust, sigh in my heart Time flies, the wind brings the coldness of early winter with the bleakness of autumn, and the days when the fallen leaves are flying always give people a little sadness and inexplicable melancholy. Perhaps it was the season that directed this poignant scene, and perhaps it was the years that painted this misty and rainy picture, which made my world suddenly lose its color. When I look back suddenly, I see sadness all over the sky, piece by piece...

Time, if a bay of tranquil water reflects the past fleeting years, flowing through spring, autumn, winter and summer, soaking every day and night. I saw all the glitz in the morning breeze and the evening rain, and I fell into the amorous cliff that is beyond redemption. So in the long years, I held a fresh breeze in my arms, embraced a bright moon, and wrote down the youthful years that are getting old. Looking back, turning around, I saw the sentimentality of the years peeling off again. The Chinese years are like water, and the youth that has passed by has gradually faded away. There are only some unforgettable points in the memory, which are connected into a line of sadness, and compose a mournful and moving melody in the changing seasons, so beautiful, but So tearful again. It was as if he was far away from the world and faded away from lovesickness. From then on, he exiled himself to follow the waves in the long river of time, and his weak writing seemed so pale and powerless. The west wind lost weight of lovesickness, rolled up the fallen leaves, and was helpless in a mess. The yellowed memories are also scattered with the wind, spreading a season of shallow sadness. Maybe, after all, it is a mirror, and it is destined to be a passing glance after only one occasional rubbing shoulder, that's all! Why? The willow flowers are like a dream, and Yanyue has always been sad. Today, thousands of sails have passed, and the memories left by the years are still vivid in my mind, as if the bell in the morning woke up the dream of last night, only a few drops of cold tears soaked on the pillow, cooling my heart. Years have stranded the past, leaving a person sad, I counted the time in the darkness, waiting for the next dawn.

In the evening of early winter, the setting sun reflected the clouds and the mountains in the distance, and occasionally a lone wild goose flew by, which looked particularly desolate. I can't help feeling the vicissitudes of life and the coldness of the world. Perhaps, since then, I have become tired of the world, converted to the green lamp, and have no desires or desires since then. It's just that the three thousand blue silks are still tied with love and sorrow, and they are constantly being chopped up, and their rationality is still messed up! The wind and rain roared toward the sky on the Mo, and the sun and the moon in the pot were ten miles away. It's a pity that the bright moon in the bright night sky and the sky darkened the stars outside the window during the long night. Before the case, a lone light slanted shadow. The moment I lowered my eyebrows, I soaked in the lovesickness that I wrote down a piece of paper. I think it is the fault of the world. The beautiful family members like flowers can't resist the wasting of time. Thinking about it, in the long years, I took a pot to indifferently watch the clouds and clouds, and brewed a cup of strong tea in the sound of long flowing water to enjoy the flowers blooming. And the perseverance and deep affection in the drifting wind still tell the four seasons that they will never leave, and that they will depend on life and death for the years. After that, with time gradually getting old. It turned out that those deep and shallow memories and those intermittent pictures were just a glimpse of the sunset, a sadness under the spring flowers and autumn moon, so desolate and heart-wrenching. I stood in front of the window, and under the bright moonlight, your beautiful and beautiful face seemed to appear again, with a smile like a flower, and then, the wind dissipated the world.

Now tenderness has no place to send, empty Xu Xiangsi soaks in the moonlight. Outside the window, the wind is still slanting. Perhaps, it was just a glimpse of the misty red dust in the dream, and I made a promise that this life will remain unchanged. In the change of autumn and winter, I saw the countless sadness caused by the flying flowers and leaves, and in the morning and evening, I let you gradually fade away Go further away. Gathering indefinitely! I am just a full moon in the southern sky, unable to reach the twilight in the northern sky. Under the curtain of night, it is no longer the glazed painting of the scenery that once was as beautiful as a dream. What remains is only the mournful grief of the wind passing over the willow and the lonely shadow looking at the end of the world. The faint night is dyed with lovesickness, Xiaoxiao cold wind blows leisurely sorrow. I don't have the elegant talent to sprinkle ink into poetry, and the vast pen can't write all the sorrows under the moon and all the obsessions in my heart, so I lazily lean against the window and let the cold wind caress my face and freeze my heart. Is this the case, the thoughts will not penetrate the bones, and the sadness will not spread? I came here by dream, like a speck of dust, lingering under the moon before the flowers, drifting in the wind by the willows, just because I don't want to let go of the glance you left inadvertently. I rested with the wind, floating in the past fleeting years, wandering among the flying flowers and leaves, just to chase the helplessness when you left. I know that you can only be a beautiful scenery in my life after all, and you are getting farther and farther away from me as time flies. Those years are always the deep sea that I can't swim. Under the darkness of the night, the sadness is surging, the cool wind is blowing, and the lovesickness that is rolled up and drawn under the pen pervades the whole night, fluttering and lasting for a long time. It turns out that happiness is so short and longing is so long. The quiet moonlight is actually the wound you shed. It is tender and watery, and it leaves a hundred holes full of wounds. The flowing blood soaked the maple leaves in the mountains and turned into red drops of rain. I often think of the choice you made when you left in that cold winter. If the autumn wind blows away, and the curtain of winter is opened, the little bit of sunshine in my heart has long been washed away. I walked forward with a heavy burden of injuries over the years, getting farther and farther away from the lights of the world. But never remember, when is your return date?

My world is cloudy and sad, like a setting sun in winter, heavy and desolate. With endless persistence, I roamed the world by the lakeside, accompanied by the shadow and the moon, and let the cold wind blow through the pain in my heart again and again. Since then, I have been intoxicated by the moonlight, buried my wounds in my heart, and never mentioned those pasts. Your sky, bright and clear, is a mirage that I can't touch, a shadow that is ethereal and nothing, and can't be shaken away. Now, I just want to see the red dust through the years, and take care of the flowers with a calm heart. Since then, I will walk in the rain and forget the past in the long years. Memories that cannot be washed away are like shadows that cannot be lost under the moon. They always come leisurely when the night rises. I vaguely remember yesterday that the moon was bright and the stars were sparse, the wind was slender and the willows were slanted, and I held hands with you to see the dark night of the lake. But now, Yuehua is still the same, who is looking at Liu Qian by the lake? In the splendid years, the past is still swaying and drifting in the vast red dust. It's like the beauty after the blooming flowers disappears in an instant, and it's like the silence after the hustle and bustle. So, I will spend my whole life to dilute this love, and spend my whole life to baptize this scarred heart. And you, after all, can only be a passing visitor in my life, I can't reach the moment of warmth drifting in the wind and your soft smile that cuts the smoke willow. I once thought that time will take everything away, when the youth is gone, only the fleeting events are left in the gap between the four seasons. After going through the beauty of spring, the heat of summer, and the bleakness of autumn, now, let this cold winter solidify the graceful feelings of wandering around the world, and deal with the coldness of this world with a cold heart. From then on, I sighed in my heart and knew the warmth and warmth. Even if I go through hardships and rains, I can't recover the past, and my pen will never be able to write the vastness of this world. It is better to forget this ending, whisper a song of the wind and the willows, and let that flower affair murmur in the wind, just like this desolate winter.