Fragrance

I like to sit by the window alone in the quiet morning, waiting silently for the red sun coming out from nowhere to illuminate the mood of the day; I also like to look up at the mysterious starry sky in the deep night, there are all kinds of feelings in my heart; I also like to hold a fresh and beautiful collection of poems in the afternoon of no one, let my heart indulge in poetry, and also like to carefully read letters from friends when I am lonely, being moved at random may be to capture the romance beyond the world at that moment, or to find a peace far away from the noise, or to release the long-gone missing, I always like to stay in the dusk. Walking on a trip, I felt melancholy all the way. Dusk is beautiful, the setting sun is red, the afterglow is golden, the soft wind blows Willow, the water is bright and the sky is bright. Such as the golden fairy tale world. The dusk is peaceful. Lovers under the tree embrace each other and depend on each other; Crane hair and children’s faces share the beautiful scenery. Dream in paradise. But the beauty of dusk is more blooming in the unpredictable corner. Wandering on the path covered with fallen red, listening to the birdsong like the Mingyue Tower, my heart was unconsciously precipitated, but also inexplicably melancholy. In a trance, I came to a sea of flowers. Looking around, a piece of small flowers covered with gold gauze were swaying in the sunset, charming but not enchanting. I don’t know their names, nor do I want to know, because any elegant name will be their beautiful shackles. Suddenly, a breeze mixed with the smell of grass blew by, countless petals broke away from the bondage of roots, rolled up with the wind, fluttered and stopped, didn’t know where to go, and the flowing water called softly, the petals were thrown into the embrace of running water one after another. Under the setting sun, the waves of water glitter with gold, petals and running water lingering, flowing to the distance, to the happy paradise, the remaining fragrance of flowers pervades around, also pervades in my heart, and the flowing water falls into the spring, heaven is with men. In the world of mortals where time passes, I am willing to wait for this moment, feel the peace of my heart and enjoy the sublimation of my spirit. The setting sun has been reluctant to hide for a long time. Maybe the setting sun also knows human feelings and is unwilling to say goodbye to this beautiful moment? Leaving the sky a piece of pale yellow, a touch of sadness, lingering sad song of departure. Looking up at the sky, the moon will appear at dusk tonight, and the fragrance will float tonight. Through the sparse branches, the boundless sky is inlaid with elegant rosy clouds, which are like curling and comfortable, as if at all. A crescent moon hung on the treetop, as if within reach. After the dusk, Dongli has a dark aroma. In this quiet dusk, dark fragrance exists. Drift across every inch of land, and penetrate every inch of heart. Maybe in this dark fragrance. You have quietly left, hidden in the hazy mist, is your lonely figure. Parting adds a bit of sentimental color to this poetic dusk. The past is lost, but yesterday in my memory still remains unchanged. I collected withered memory petals with my heart, and then connected them in series with emotions to form a legend that never fades. In this dark and fragrant dusk, fireworks thoughts are like running water, a touch of loneliness, a piece of missing, like the setting sun at night, like the sad moonlight. In the memory and missing, a kind of sadness like a lifetime came to my mind. The sunset disappeared on the ground, and the Twilight was mixed. The dim lights were lit around one after another, and a crescent moon leaned against the night sky, several scattered stars blinked lazily in the Milky Way. The courtyard was silent, and the moon shadow in front of the window was sparse, just like peeping at people in the window. The gloomy petals in front of the window gathered the incomplete heart. Under the shadow of the lamp, people were not asleep, and I took back my elegant eyes, quietly close your eyes. But all these were hidden in my heart quietly and lingering. Outside the bamboo, the flowers are sparse, the fragrance is cold, the flowers sing for the moon, a piece of sad white. The Moonlight blows flowers and is cold, and the clear shadow lingers alone. I think about it with tears covered. The road is long and the dream is short. People are lonely and lean on the slanting screen alone. Tonight in my dream, I will reprint the people I miss, the things I sigh with emotion and the picturesque scenery. Pages of thick ink and light color, a night of imagination like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring Spring elimination snow, multi-the yao nian, unspoken. 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