In tears

Gently, gently, night coming from one side of the day to come; Quietly, quietly, the stars out of first quarter moon smile; Slowly, slowly Dream beauty pro, the month shed tears of stars...

In tears, or the residual of the sunset, but sad not too gorgeous. It is gently point on the horizon, give the wandering homesick and miss a reason and a suitable environment; To a dying old man count time interval; A quiet moment to young people young. Tears points to a gorgeous, mixed with joy or sadness, or touched, painted a picture to let a person tender, decorate a kind of special shock. In silence, out of a setting sun.

In tears, or that all over the sky star, exquisite but not too bright. Stars slowly flowing, tears gently twittering, tells the story of the dream-seeker young, the young girl's heart. Their cheeks to falling in the night, slowly condenses into crystalline, but no one to wipe away Dream beauty pro, one after another, compose in the month of eyelash, glowing with a moving orchestra.

In tears, or the whereabouts of the dew. Stars would eventually, descended from heaven, and drop on the branches and leaves and flowers, playing in the corner, near the roof fall in the wind flowing water, still waiting for the light touch, is predestined friends the human skirts were absorbed by people, into nutrients and awaken the sleepy traveler, urged him to quickly set off on a new journey...

Tears never flow for sorrow, because moved down not desolate, but warm. That month shed a bright star night, illuminating the darkness in the face of the man. Shedding tears is the feeling of nature, is the life of calm, is a simple and quiet electrical desk. Look! Smile, laugh out of tears. The butterfly in my free shuttle loom; A dragonfly on the surface of the light swept through, the surface once more ripples. Butterfly the comfortable, the light, let me envy, let me once in a very long while can't forget.
posted by DO at 19:08| Comment(0) | 日記 | 更新情報をチェックする


Meet, the heart warm

Once again when the spring breeze over time of the lintel and heart is always with the footsteps of spring, roaming in the nature culturelle, breathe the fresh air, the brow and heart, just like is the awaken of spring is abundant, smell the scent of soil, the heart as if already was pale green, all things are lost in the spring tides occur, a little bit, a little bit, in imperceptible in, change the color of the season, at this time, my thoughts always with ink, in the spring tide of the ups and downs, sea through the window of time pavilion, through the cycle of the changes of the earth, drift in the depths of time. Stagnation in the season we met.

It was a late autumn, all covered with bleak and desolate, patches of fallen leaves in the autumn wind float away, the heart is full of sad melancholy, as if oneself is a lonely fallen leaves, in the glow of your sun quartermaster, wounds in the autumn cold wind, no marginal falling, piaoxiang distant without destination.

At that time, always likes to make the mind, on the tip of painted blue light line, between the residual constant DuanBi to pick up bits and pieces of memory, to piece together not perfect life.

In that sad lonely season, you appear in my words, culturelle see you every article reviews, in the heart of the moment. You understand and understanding, to set up a bridge of friendship between us, in a strange, we became bosom friend pity, and encourage each other friends.

Since then, in the sea on a boat, 'each other, all of my heart are printed on your smile, we hand in hand in the text, walk in the time, with words to each place of mind, to taste the leaves, deep to feel deep in the arid and desert, long time heart pulled close distance, in meet, forged a text.

And you meet, changed my boring day, in my world of silence added color and fragrance, is you give me support and encouragement, and I didn't have the confidence and courage, give the people to read the text display. Let the heart, with the words, came out of the world which was full of sad and melancholy.

Meet is boundless, need is deep love, earth buckish, we are all in light with vicissitudes of life, let the dribs and drabs feeling, into the spring breeze in comfort each other, miss string, use the mo shakes hanging branches, a number of years in the life the best memories, carved in the depths of the time, and write in that moment, the falling of a star will remember each other, and in the distance with a heart in prayer for you, for your blessing.

Sometimes in life, a turn round is the end of the world, sometimes, a common nature of the meet, is doomed to eternal of life. I like in the quiet, a window of the moon alone, with a quarter of the wind, in the text, to find your shadow, with the ink, the use life to embrace this friendship, even if, we in the distant, face still not familiar with electrical desk, but your memory is so precious.

With the spring breeze blow gently, my thoughts always flying over mountains, through the season and linger in memory, read on the tip of the finger lightsome, use that a string of letters to beautiful spring scenery, to warm, warm the heart. Warm insipid life. Let the process the same scenery, take a grateful heart, to walk in the world, in the bloomy spring season, let the memory to the depths of the bloom in the world of mortals.
posted by DO at 17:48| Comment(0) | electron | 更新情報をチェックする


Life secure, upstream against heart

Perhaps. You can not remember.
Time flows, an inverse of the mad chaos of the flood level.
Case. When no one remembered always.
A sea of ​​peace and prosperity, not Kuwata sea.
I do bustling yellow water, eyes wild flattened tide culturelle.

Too far from shore, footsteps messy.
Afraid foot fall at awakened.
A cold cover residual footer. Cracked shell but not the heart.

This life peacefully. Walk miles every day.
That fell down to sleep, unable to traceability.
Look at someone else's house, you are drawing our map.
No one can deny.
No one can confirm adjustable desk.
Two years after a year for three years, back to that point.
Your heart-warming smile soft words.

With the wrist on the table.
Time ticking. Tick. Tick.
Timeline unchanged, all "points" Consumers already obliterate in history.
But bear in mind, like a camera.
Inappropriate in the most appropriate time, you are forever engraved pure shadow.

Carry in a pocket wallet electrical desk.
My dream is never discarded.
In the closest distance between the skin.
I listen to the rest of my life soft words.
In each winter, there is always an eye.
Let me wait until the sunshine island, Hongxia like blood.

Do not bother, I can give is the last tender.
Quietly, came to the plains you belong culturelle.
Unintentional concept scenery.
posted by DO at 13:23| Comment(0) | Life | 更新情報をチェックする




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