1. Mountains and rivers are handed over to give you a smile.

2. Life can be full of joy and death without regrets.

3. Send you a song, no matter where you are at the end of the song.

4. That’s it, the mountains and rivers will never meet again.

5. When all the floating flowers and waves are gone, I will be alone with you.

6. How can the flowers fall and fall without a trace for a lifetime?

7. Use me to create fireworks in exchange for your confusion for the rest of your life.

8. Who will burn the smoke and scatter the ties of vertical and horizontal ties?

9. The street is long and the fireworks are numerous. You turn on the light to look back.

10. If life were just like the first time we met, it would be ordinary.

11. The cool night lights dim and the ambiguity disperses the melodious music.

12. At the two ends of life, we stand on the shore of each other.

13. Butterflies are beautiful, but after all, butterflies cannot fly across the sea.

14. Once the spring goes, the beauty will grow old, and the flowers will fall and people will die.

15. The blue sky at the top and the yellow spring at the bottom, the two places are hopeless.

16. It seems that these stars are not like last night, for whom the wind and dew set up the midnight.

17. Your sunset and my appearance are one third of my year.

18. Just looking back at you makes me miss you.

19. There are trees in the mountains, but the trees have branches, and I am happy for you, but you don’t know it.

20. This relationship should last forever. If you don’t care, I will break up.

21. Looking back, the bright moon is just too late to worry about, sending the flow.

Twenty-two, after a fleeting dream, I return to the Qushui River to watch the fireworks and the full moon.

Twenty-three, build up the eternal love and crush the deep lovesickness.

24. Who accepts someone’s calamity and who becomes someone’s obsession.

25. Fenghua is like a finger of quicksand, and old age is like a period of time.

Twenty-six, I raise my glass and get drunk alone. After drinking the snow, I feel at a loss for another year.

Twenty-seven, let him be pure and turbid in everything, and he will be reincarnated for your smile.

Twenty-eight, when will I be willing to fall asleep and pick up my pen, feeling confused and struggling to paint.

Twenty-nine, the past has turned into butterflies, dancing in the passing away.

Thirty, who finally made the string break, the flowers fell on the shoulders, and I was confused.

Thirty-one, a season of flowers blooming and fragrance on the streets, a season of sadness and sorrow, causing pain on the pillow.

Thirty-two, several lamentations, several lifetimes of joys and sorrows, and laughter. I have no control over my fate.

Thirty-three, if I had all the power in the world for you, I would abandon my armor from now on.

Thirty-four, I would like to accompany you as a pair of bones to bid farewell to this sad and desolate life.

35. If you can find happiness and stability in this life, who would want to be homeless?

Thirty-six. The lights are shining, the voices are dim, and the songs are endless.

Thirty-seven. The vast land can be destroyed with one sword, where will the bustling music and songs fall.

Thirty-eight, if I live up to the Tathagata and live up to you, if you sleep forever, I will die.

Thirty-nine, the world knows that you are unparalleled in elegance, but no one understands your sadness and desolation.

Forty, there are hundreds of beauties in the world, but you are the only one I love.

Forty-one, all kinds of stories are nothing but love hurts; when people go through the water, the bright moon is like frost.

Forty-two, thousands of years of romance, several times in dreams. The wisps are covered with frost, and every sound is resentful.

43. It turns out that we have said our oaths to each other many times, but it seems like this has just passed away.

Forty-four, the sky is not old, love is hard to die. The heart is like a double mesh with thousands of knots in it.

Forty-five, there is a tiger in my heart, and I smell the rose carefully. After the feast, there were tears.

Forty-six. In the past, there were high-rise buildings where people sang in the morning and sang in the evening, and there were dancing sleeves that captivated the city and the country.

Forty-seven, you were the one who disturbed my dreams, and you were the one who made me miserable for half my life.

Forty-eight, the flowers have fallen away, but things have changed and people have changed; the love is still there, but the fate is difficult to continue.

Forty-nine, the river is lonely, the banks are dark green, and your figure is standing everywhere.

At fifty, the flowers covered by time bloom, and everything passes by and becomes blank.

Fifty-one, how many beauties are haggard, how many lovesicknesses are broken, only blood is left to stain the ink and weep in the grave.

Fifty-two, like a beautiful family, the years pass by like a fleeting time. You can't go back to the past, but you can't go back to the beginning.

53. May the soul reach the end of memory, may the clothes have flowers, may the years be peaceful.

Fifty-four, one flower and one world, one leaf and one pursuit. A song and a sigh, a lifetime for one person.

Fifty-five, who are you? The pen-tip boy who thinks about you day and night wanders into songs on the deserted road in the city.

Fifty-six. Whoever forgets each other will forget first. The overthrow of the country is the homeland. Ling Ling refused to play, and the shadows were startling.

Fifty-seven. The fog cleared and I woke up from the dream. I finally saw the reality. It was the silence after thousands of sails had passed.

Fifty-eight, the still water flows deep, and the Sheng plays songs; the clouds and sunshine in the three lives are full of joys and sorrows.

Fifty-nine, worldly relationships are always like water, and tears are rarely needed, so why spend a lifetime of love? Don't be sentimental, for love will hurt yourself.

Sixty, ten years of life and death are boundless, without thinking, unforgettable, lonely tomb thousands of miles away, no place to talk about desolation.

Sixty-one, the crystal is like a flower, and it is as bright as a bead; reflecting the moonlight, it flickers and falls, leaving only melancholy.

Sixty-two, fate gathers and falls apart, fate is like water, carrying the world on its back, just for a word, waiting for the next meeting.

Sixty-three, the street is long, the fireworks are numerous, you pick up the lamp and look back, the pavilion is short, the world is rolling, I sigh again.

Sixty-four, I am young, and my time is spent. Dark clouds covered the moon and there were no traces of people around. It was indescribably lonely.

65. There is a kind of forbearance that actually contains a kind of power, and there is a kind of silence that is actually a shocking confession.

Sixty-six, ice condenses, things are sad, the universe, who does not flow. The flowers wither, and the sorrow is only in my heart. Waiting for high hopes, the sky has your eyes.

Sixty-seven, listen to the string break, break the three thousand obsessions. The falling flowers are obliterated, and the wind is obliterated. If the flower is pity, it falls on whose fingertips.

Sixty-eight, the lights are shining, the voices are dim, and the songs are endless. Dark clouds covered the moon and there were no traces of people around. It was indescribably lonely.

Sixty-nine, the vast land can be destroyed with one sword, where will the bustling music and songs fall. Leaning against the clouds, thousands of pots hide my loneliness, even if others laugh at me in vain.

70. The melancholy charm of Qingyuan is a distant and untouchable sadness, like a faint cloud and a lonely moon, which can only look into the distance of the sky.

Seventy-one. If you don’t look back, why not forget. Since there is no fate, why make an oath? Today, all kinds of things are like water without trace. Tomorrow and evening, you are no longer a stranger.

72. Look at the sky, the earth, the sun and the moon, they are silent and silent; the green mountains and long rivers stretch from generation to generation; just like in my heart, you have never left or changed.

Seventy-three, this time I left you, it was wind, rain, and night; you smiled, I waved my hand, and a lonely road spread to both ends.

Seventy-four, who finally broke the string, and the flowers fell on the shoulders, and finally the mist and rain from the south of the Yangtze River covered the world in a trance. After letting the flowers fade, it was just a scene, and the mountains and rivers were silent forever.

Seventy-five, the heart is slightly moved, but the love is far away, things are not the same, people are not the same, everything is different, the past cannot be pursued. There is a tiger in my heart, and I smell the rose carefully. After the feast, there were tears.

Seventy-six, turn around, a wisp of cold fragrance is far away, the passing snow is deep, and the smile is shallow. Would you like to save me in the next life? Always born in unexpected years. Looking back to the other side. Even though the scene of discovery is long.