viorances

My heaven

Month rose late, I deliberately stay to see the moon in my hometown. But I come from?
Light has no candle, corn leaf in the wind trembling under the rustling. But I was quiet, can science reverse time, let me white left.
Distracting, ado, numerous and complicated.
Night, quiet, is a black thick cloud cover. One side of the mountain, black men, on the other side of the mountain, and went up into the mountain to see the moon. I imagine to write the sad: no rising and falling, no touching.
The springs, the well water is a water and soil of the earth. I heard sing, I hear the ding-dong, high and low head, and then flow to the mountain side of the cave. Hole inside me when I was a child have been to countless times, those beautiful stalactite and layers of the house like the floor of the beautiful stone, with engraved on my memory.
Jiangnan guizhou plateau from some treasure gas, and precious little pearl, which waste how ruthless unintentional.
About ten years old I have been to a issue of plateau. Weeds and XiLa Chinese fir was decorated with several wild strains, the rain comes again. Telescopic party I see just plateau is independent of the scene, I didn't see the stream of snow and ice, and I didn't see the water boat.
Dissension, the village in man's helpless.
Seen the waterfall and pheasants, and hung from the edge vertical land ice in the winter of hook. A bamboo rod, I swam across the four corners of the street where I! Days maturity, wild boundless! Hamada baishan plateau of closing see cattle and sheep.
Think too far, too far, no one seems to intimate knowledge. Also should not seek.

Wild meteor

Quiet night moved a small bench, sun sitting in the hills. Someone says: the stars are the diamond of the poor. Can be beautiful but behind metaphors is pale, comfort themselves. Looking up at the loss of starlight in the night sky, decadent lean on the door frame, dark at the moment, nothing is difficult to see, memory that is a piece of abandoned land, weeds in the air. Dim light, long figure, appear so lonely and lonely.
Breeze gracefully playing a tune brushed grass, expecting a ray of light in the song. Like a seven rainbow of colors, condensation is one thousand years of solitude. And like a overflow sweet yuhua, bloom's firm waiting for you; Also like a beautiful meteor, the slide is the stroke of the dream-seeker fixation. In a flash, a little throb of seemed to make the world vicissitudes of life in the sea heart pumping. This is the first time I saw the firefly, but let me find alone also can be so romantic.
The suave deducing the optional and free, and I can only cappuccino line, deep and remote light, let the eyes blurred gradually in the silence. Oh, night elf in the field, the dream-like enchanting dancing for who? Why so beautiful heartbreaking? Shuttle in the abandoned in the corner, looking for what? Maybe too far away, I couldn't hear the answer. So I think I'm a firefly in the fireflies dream looking for belongs to my answer.
Look the blue sky, shallow water, I was born in the crook of weeds. In the eggs of day is the most warm, the most carefree. Although inside what also can't see, but I was so fondly imagine all kinds of the outside world beautiful, lovely flowers, the clear water. Anxiously waiting to hatch. Like a hungry bird saw the ground like a pile of delicious corn.
Several spring and the autumn passed; the already hatching there was a time I could not find the original fantasy of it all. Greeted is muddy streams and ugly flowers. And when I want to pick up with innocence and purity of residual shell eggs, only to find that has only consumed by the law of the jungle world.
Deep disappointment, but I can only obey the arrangement of fate, began to learn to a number with two hard to climb to the top of grass tip of snails, and one after the other they are eating into the brain, feeling really very boring. Even if occasionally a change, but also is a kind of snail bitter things. To be honest, I hate this depressed life, even if the snails are now let me know what power in the process of it in up to do work. So I with a rebellious hunger strike, wantonly squandered youth to build a think good and only belong to me one person in the world -- -- -- -- -- - worm pupa. At first feel good, but the pain to find themselves stuck, and surrounding is a dark.
In the self construction of the dark, wandering soul with sorrow, can't find a place to inhabit. Time pushing a failure of the wheel, ruthlessly crush, naive I am twenty years age and left behind only the fragmented memories of the past in the heavy air, permeates the loss of vaguely shining with tears. Heart down the scar mournful look, gradually understand how stupid. Once upon a time the indulgence of the Began in the desperate struggle, secretly vowed to break through this pathetic self locked. Finally, I opened a crack.

Wild goose Hu Tian month, sheep SaiCao smoke

In the grasslands of the north sea, he waved the sheep whip, still looking at the south, firmly holding the han dynasty, the continuous section of this country gives his mission, he stood still with tianshan snow with a party.
Sunset XieHui, whip whipped the north land, sheep flock here running, he chose the shepherd, chose to adhere to 19 years in the desolate desert.
Remember, li ling brings prosperity between the near mountains, and as long as he gently lower the bow, prosperity, kam cap mink fur, you can, but Su Wu didn't do it, he will be the cup is full of temptations wine down heavily, his wins-a-comin, with "please finish today's drink, XiaoSi in front" to dispel the khan down wu fantasy, he still insist on the faith of the heart and wealth like dirt, resolutely cast off jin mo mink fur coat. Su Wu is not a saint, but he stuck to the mission, don't want to do shameless mean person turn traitor for personal gain, he willingly waste a holy flawless on the tianshan snow lotus, would rather stick to life, for the rest of your life with cold air company.
Desert landscape is unique, August is the snow, the snow with the branch, Su Wu even sometimes mistakenly thought it was the spring of chang 'an, night spring breeze, thousands of critics, pear flower, tree becomes changan, he could fight back with north wild goose flying Hu Tian of homesickness, tears could fight back with interacting with solitary hill, in a foreign land, tore heart crack lung of pain. Busy chang 'an becomes changan, touch the sill of the bar, listening to the lake lotus bloom is filar silk rain, charactizing a fine spring day, joy. He cry in the dream, hand grip the side of the continuous section, believed to have a belong to the han day, more in the north sea shepherd constant belief.
Early in the morning of the north sea are still HanHai crisscross baizhang ice, fraught the coagulation, day after day, how many years wield whips, continuous section heads in the hands of I don't know when to have stripped nude, clear like the water through the sheep's eyes, he saw the profuse manage cloud, to see the time in the face of all the appearance of wrinkles. How many years, he kept snapping in ice snow swallow clearly felt not Yan memory, heavy snow, a piece of white, the cold winds blow and he was shuddering and curled up in a ice, her arms tightly holding the body, it is more and more cold, he swallowed a thick blanket, only to wait for days clear up, only to belong to the han, just to save moral integrity. Stick to it all the way, he will never forget is loyal to the country to die mission. Nineteen years of today, he is already a headful of manage cloud, he insisted on sheep and singing in the north sea, in the vast frozen, wanli very loud voice on the north sea, singing the desert sands, sing him after chang and his motherland.
He is going to home, that is the north wind cold palate with face and couldn't help career. That is stuck to tears, tears is loyalty to the details of the han dynasty. He still insisted on holding shed light continuous section heads, nineteen years of age, immaculate continuous rod always hanging on his sincere without my heart.
Goose across the north sea, left his heart back to the early han dynasty, the smoke still haunt the fortress of sheep in the meadow, written in the footprints of their Su Wu insisted.