Your changeability makes me remember you
Time flies by, and the fruits left by the years are crumbling, that is you! The you that countless bright little mouths want to taste. Each of your fruits is filled with a different flavor, and a wonderful feeling hits my heart. You just stay in my heart...
Damei Liuyao, you are singing in the prosperous Kyoto. A woman like water. The pure smile is reflected in the dream of recalling the light of the jade pot and the dancing of fish and dragons all night. At dusk, you are Liu Yong's dawn wind and waning moon, and Yi An's thin yellow flower. In the jade pillow in the gauze cabinet, the jade silk secretly spreads the fragrance, and the silver bell-like laughter is like a singer's shallow chant, like a clear spring left in the heart and then disappearing. The leisurely you are Rui Nao melted in the flames and the fragrance lingering in my heart. With a leader like a cricket, you turn all living beings upside down while frowning, and your smile spreads across the mountains and rivers. Under the slanting light, you went to Bai Ping Island alone with your feelings. Your swaying feelings melted into the spring water of the river. The orange-red sunset rippled in the microwave, just like your feelings, so gentle. Lu You, because in "The Hairpin-headed Phoenix" you expressed the sorrow of "spring is as old as before, people are thin and empty, and the tears are red and wet through the silk threads". Tang Wan is the you who "the wind has dried up, but the traces of tears remain." Then there is the you who "was full of melancholy and spent several years away from home. Wrong, wrong, wrong!" You once sang "Desolate and lonely, miserable and miserable" and chanted "There is no way to eliminate this feeling, so I frowned and took it to my heart." Over and over, I remember the gentle you.
The moonlight is scattered and the locust trees are slanting. You are a romantic young man wearing a plain green shirt and holding a jade flute. You once held a soft hand and sprinkled ink, brightening and destroying the landscape along the way, and blooming flowers in your pen. You chanted "The flying mirror under the moon, the clouds are forming sea towers", bent over the desk, wrote all the landscapes of the world, and saw all the graceful and graceful things. You like to look at the scenery of Jiangnan. The waterwheel and ink are whirring and turning, and time is flying in front of you. The bright red house door, the blue roof tiles, and the black ink lines. The Chinese characters in your writing have prominent joints and are delicate yet sharp. Autumn leaves are scattered, the door is deserted in the autumn festival, you laugh and listen to the delirium in the lack of tea, and you are so worldly. You knock the chess pieces leisurely and see the hundreds of miles of winding waterways and the swaying rice bushes; the lights fall gently, and you pick chrysanthemums on the east fence, looking back at the Nanshan... Leisurely, you pick only one chrysanthemum and timidly, and then Driving to the east of the lake, I saw "a few early orioles vying for warm trees, and new swallows pecking at spring mud." Then I remembered your indifference.
Blow the horns to kill the autumn cold. You are a hot-blooded hero wearing armor and sitting in the military camp. Between your eyebrows, you have a heroic spirit, and your blood is flowing through your body. The city is closed all around, there is no grape wine, red sleeves add fragrance, but you just shout boldly, "Why don't men bring Wu hooks and collect Guanshan Fifty States!" With passion shaking the heart, you stand lonely in front of Yumen Pass, without seeing the spring breeze. Du, playing "Folding Willow" to miss relatives. Order troops on the battlefield with great ambition and pride. For now, you can sing, "Don't laugh, Lord, lying drunk on the battlefield. How many people have fought in ancient times." You are Wang Changling's "Army"! You are Li He's "South Park"! It's Wang Han's "Liangzhou Ci"! You live in a land of ice and snow, and you smile and watch "Suddenly a spring breeze comes overnight, and thousands of pear trees bloom." Your solemn and solemn oath has long been floating on the bloody battlefield, undefeated and unfailing. In this way, I remember the heroic you!
The long river of time still flows, but you stand and look around in every era. Poetry, a changeable you has flowed through thousands of years. You uphold the condensed civilization of China and whisper in my ears.
Every moment, my heart sways when I look at you.
Every minute, I read you and I listen to the wind.
Every second, chanting you and me, I will dream back for thousands of years.
You are such a changeable person. After a thousand years of youth, how can you not let me remember you?