Affectionate eyes, infinite charm of sunset. The red pole of the setting sun brings colorful pictures, the sunset glow makes up, and the red rises all over the corner, sitting peacefully in a beautiful melancholy and enjoying this happiness alone. The yellowing of the years, the scattered past events are like the sunset, the twilight is soft and the sunset is infinitely beautiful. Who said "to see the sun, for all his glory, buried by the coming night"?
Walking poetically in April, the sunset is red all over Shan Ye. Sometimes at dusk, the setting sun is short, looking up at the colorful years and profound youth, I deeply recall the experiences of the protagonists He and Li in the plot. Spread out the sunset, the sunset glow around the sunset, the shore of the sea, the sunset reflects the lover's back, the familiar wooden window, the laughter walking in the sunset, a warm look back, and the fragments of the sunset.
The sunset is full of residual red, wandering alone in the street, feeling the homesickness of the sunset flowing quietly, looking back at the old days, the laughter of life fragments, and the ink painting pictures printed in my mind. At dusk, listening to the past of the sunset, looking at the distant mountains and the empty sky, the tired birds return, this season flies, and the people watching the sunset slowly spread out the quiet chords all over the sky, which are so quiet and soft, passing through the foreheads of vicissitudes of life, smiling at dusk, and retaining the sunset.
Reflecting the dusk, gently roll up the hair on your forehead, the red sunset glow, like a song, like a manzhushahua, so beautiful, so soft, beautiful picture, breathing and happy. A gust of wind drifted through the messy hair and began to move gently, with a long aftertaste, which was a sad reminder of loneliness at dusk. Sunset, small window, distant scenery, light fragrance like flowers, began to wander around, quietly looking sideways, this quiet sunset was beautiful to the extreme in the evening.
My eyes are drunk, time is broken, the April evening is full of damp smell, and the faint pollen in the air reveals a hint of Jin Liang in the sunset. Dark green willows are polished into transparent warm colors. This late spring, long-lost attachment breath, overlooks the charm in the sunset. I watched it in the distance, quietly sad, this touch of scenery, sunset at dusk, will you stay for me?
I like this dusk for no reason, like the sunset, like its blushing face, just like the words in my diary. When I think of the tenderness of the warm words in the evening and the transparent warm colors of the sunset, there is a fragrant tide on my face. I thought of Xue Xiaochan's lost dusk. It's too quiet, a person quietly listening to the sadness of Braisaz farmers, trying to look at the blue sky. I can't tell you how disappointed I am I need such a dusk and feel close to myself.
Every time I miss you, I will enjoy the sunset several times. I like to look at hongxia quietly, as quiet as a page. Leave the hustle and bustle of the crowd, sit in one place, turn off your cell phone, let your thoughts rot quietly, enjoy yourself and drain your memories. This evening, the long-lasting love, behind the drunken sunset, just can't find the familiar voice anymore. I'm lost. I rolled up the messy hair on my forehead with a hairpin and stepped over my back in the afterglow. The sunset is so quiet.
Quietly flowing time, the breeze blowing the skirt, and golden dusk, the sunset pulling the shadow for a long time, beside the rose garden and shadow jungle. The setting sun reflects the benches in the dusk, and the lovers who snuggle together accompany each other. The clouds are close to the morning glow, the sunset glow is still elegant and clear, and the dusk in the sunset becomes a beautiful scenery. I stretched out my hands to pick this rare warm silence, and suddenly hoped that the evening would stay at this moment forever.
The sky is full of rosy clouds and seagulls are flying everywhere. I like Twilight written by Qiong Yao. Twilight is boundless, running water sweeps away time, dusk fades away, the night is low, songs are sung, the tide rises and falls, the sunset is dusk, and only seagulls fly.
The sunset glow burns the sky red, and the sunset is poetic and picturesque. The sunset glow is dotted with beautiful scenery at the last moment of the day, and a chord is covered with beauty and tenderness. I imagine the sea as a sunken fish and a wild goose. The sea is ups and downs, and birds gliding in the wind are singing. I can't help liking the dusk of this scene, the hustle and bustle so far away from the world, the intoxication of the empty coast, the sunset and the sea surface, the waves and shadows on the sea surface are charming and charming, which makes people talk into poetry.
Time flies in front of us, quietly collecting yesterday's vicissitudes in the cuffs. On the road full of mountain flowers, there is a hint of coolness, and the dancing honey swings with the wind in the shallow shadow of the sunset, briefly and sometimes at dusk. As the sun sets, tired birds sway the tranquility of dusk, and the cherry rain by the river in April has lost its seasonal beauty. Lonely sunset, I don't know whose tenderness it belongs to.
Sunset, softly scattered on the windowsill. This evening in late winter and early spring, in the fading time of spring, I listened to the whispers of the past comfortably. Under the beautiful sunset, flowers fall from one tree to another, blowing up long memories of loneliness in the dusk, and how many tender years are clear in the dream. The dusk in the sunset, looking back from time to time, is covered with sunset red, writing down the shadow of poetic dusk and understanding the true meaning of life.
The sunset at dusk, at that moment, everything in the world has changed. The phoenix tree umbrella is red, the birds are singing, and the colorful glow is a dreamlike dress. The sun, the moon and the stars are singing in gorgeous brilliance. Time can't stay, spring has gone without a trace, the tide rises and falls, and it is bitter and hurried. There are several green hills and some sunset red.
Look at the sun, although it is dazzling, how long time has passed; Sunset is a late flower, sunset is an old wine, sunset is a late love, sunset is an unfinished love. Ripples like a song, a brilliant and ancient ink painting. Gently, dusk passed and the sunset left.
At this time, I remembered the famous saying of modern essayist Xu Zhimo, "I left gently, just as I came gently;" I waved my hand gently and bid farewell to the clouds in the western sky. The golden willow by the river is the bride in the sunset; Beautiful shadows in the waves ripple in my heart. I left quietly, just as I came quietly; I waved my sleeve without taking away a cloud.