As long as my hair reaches my waist, marry me

Chapter 3 Poetry and Wine Years (1)
That face waiting in the season

The red lotus after the rain, Pianpian, you come, like a small order.

From an allusion of love, you come.

From Jiang Baishi's words, rhyme, you come.

——Yu Guangzhong "Waiting for You, In the Rain"

I forgot at which ferry we met.It is the south of the city where "take the colorful boat, pass the lotus pond, and sing the songs to wake up the sleeping mandarin ducks", or "the repair water is thick and clear, the new strips are light green, and the emerald light reflects the virtual pavilion. The brocade mandarin duck, the frost heron, and the lotus path pick up the quiet duckweed". Nantang?Between the fields, let me hold a branch of love and love, and I will be fascinated.The fragrance is dense, and there are countless sweets, which make Jiangnan red and my poems red.

When the wind blows, the lotus leaves dance with the wind, and the lotus in the pond is round and round, extending far away.String songs spread with the breeze. "So the demon boy and girl, rowing the boat with a heart; head slowly back, and pass the feather cup; the boat will move and the algae hangs, the boat will move and open. You have a slender waist and a plain dress, delaying the steps; summer begins and spring rests , Ye Nen Huachu, afraid of staining clothes and smiling lightly, afraid of overturning boats and holding back her skirt." For a moment, I seemed to see a beautiful fairy coming towards Lingbo singing.

At that time, it was sunny after the rain, and the blue waves were thousands of miles away. Her skirts were fluttering and she kept looming among the lotus leaves; her singing was gentle and melodious like a light song.Her eyes are clear, and there is a kind of longing that makes people indulge in a lifetime.

The mat pillow invites the coolness, the piano and the book change the day, and the sleep is weak.Sprinkle the ice spring finely, and break the ganbi with a knife.Call wine on the wall, who asks questions, poets from the south of the city.Quiet.Gao Liu Late Cicada, said the news of the west wind.

Hongliang Shuimo.The waves of fish are blowing fragrance, and the red clothes are half messed up.Weizhou tried to visit the motherland.Tianbei.It's a pity that there are no beauties traveling outside the sand beside Zhu.When asked when the same Fu, 36 Pei autumn.

——Song Jiang Kui "Cherish the Red Clothes"

The sunset is near dusk, and the evening wind blows without a trace.I know that our fate in this life has already been doomed in previous lives.By the Sansheng Stone, by the Naihe Bridge, and also in Jiang Baishi's long and short sentences.I know that you have integrated your God and your heart into Jiangnan and into the poems.You have spent thousands of years beside the Naihe Bridge just to wait for my appearance. The "Miaofa Lianhua Sutra" says, "The lotus flower, that is, the wonderful method, is the method to attract and guide all living beings." With fluttering clothes, I tossed and turned all the way, changing long pavilions and short pavilions.The small bridges and flowing waters in the south of the Yangtze River, the marriage that never broke up in the previous life, in this life, if I look for you, whose pavilion should I find?
The horseshoe that day was like a mystery that could never be solved.So far, I still can't recall how beautiful you looked when you were frowning shyly, and how blurred your eyes were when you flustered and dodged.I only remember that you hurriedly covered the curtain, the flowers and branches were trembling, but you secretly lifted the curtain and peeked at my white horse.

The wind is calm and the flowers are leisurely, the willows are high and the eaves are low, and the hanju outside the pond has gentle branches and leaves.I hovered on the saddle non-stop, your delicate breath, like a lotus, hit my clothes directly, quiet and sweet.

The rain came suddenly.The oiled paper umbrella you gave me must have a marriage from a previous life.Otherwise, why is it so fragrant, so soft, and full of memories for me?Later, you turn and leave.Like a poem, silent and euphemistic, flowing in time and space.

The look you looked back at me made me lose my soul in an instant.In the south of the Yangtze River where the rain falls, I saw a graceful lotus, a graceful lotus, and a walking lotus, blooming a shy smile in front of my eyes.The story of that day had too much blank space. Your smile was later written into a poem by me in one go, full of foreshadowing and compassion.

I walked through Jiangnan
That face waiting in the season

blooming like a lotus

If the east wind does not come, the catkins in March do not fly
Your heart is like a small lonely city
Just like the bluestone streets in the evening,
The sound of the crocodile does not sound, and the spring curtain of March does not lift
Your heart is a small casement closed tightly

My Dada's horseshoe is a beautiful mistake

I am not a person

is a passerby
—— Zheng Chouyu's "Error"

You said that I am your graceful Song Ci, written on the sea of ​​your heart.You said that I am the pure Sulian, swaying in the south of the Yangtze River with you.You said that my brows and hearts all have a classical temperament.You said, Lian's heart language is pure and reserved.I see the hope blooming in your eyes, clear and pure.At that time, I stopped in the south of the Yangtze River with white walls and black tiles, holding your favorite Sulian.Outside the long bridge, someone's Hanyu Pavilion seems to be still brewing for us the marriage and the romance of the rain.

Fleeting years have changed secretly, and the sea has changed.The lotus in the pond blooms continuously. "How can I repay the favor of the king this year, and send lotus flowers to Qingdun all the way." However, if the east wind does not come, the catkins in March will not fly.Moss prefers the ancient street of Yuxiang, and I write deeply and gracefully, but I can never go back to the past.The flowery boy back then was no match for the flow of water.

The world of mortals is ten thousand feet, and the past becomes sorrow.After a season of flowers fall, whose face has been lost?Whose yearning has been barren after a lifetime of waiting?

The face waiting in the season, like the opening and falling of lotus, makes me heartbroken.

Could it be that my clattering horseshoe is destined to be just a beautiful miss?

I like you, like a poem

A smile of flattery is hard to buy.Small cherry lips, light moth Dai.The style of Yuhuan is still there.Want to spend, climb saddle state.Standing against the green clouds as if waiting.Looking at the new moon, for whom do you double worship.Whispers are not heard, the breeze is moving, and the skirt is loose.

—— Song He Zhu's "Climbing the Saddle"

I like you, like a poem.Loving you is the deepest miss in my life.

In spring, I will write my thoughts among the petals, one tree after another blooms, swaying the most beautiful memory of youth for you; in summer, I will write my thoughts on the banks of the river, where beautiful trees are lush and beautiful, just like your eyebrows and eyes Yingying, lingering; in autumn, I will write my thoughts to the three or five full moons, looking forward to cutting with you in the west chamber, whispering; in winter, I will write my thoughts in the snow-covered Jiangnan, waiting to find love with you through the snow. Mei, the poem writes about the years.

I like you, it is the liking of a poem, and it is also the most beautiful and proudest thing I have ever done in this life.I like to be with you, tossing around the world; I like to be with you, to be with you day and night.Poems, books, qin paintings, spring flowers and autumn moon, elegant and gentle, with boundless wind and moon.

And what I like the most is to follow you to the south of the Yangtze River, to beautiful places with mountains and rivers, with white horses dancing all the way, singing slowly, and writing the perfection of life.

In the south of the Yangtze River where roses are blooming, the flowing water is gurgling.I want to walk hand in hand with you through the town's ferry, village and market, then pass through the din of gongs and drums on the ancient stage, burn a fire of incense under the peach blossom tree at the end of the town, and sit quietly with you for an afternoon .Or drink tea and fight poems, or play the flute and play the piano, or appreciate jade and play chess, or do nothing, just sit quietly with you.Your eyes are gentle, as clear and pure as spring water; my mood is mellow, as mossy as a rainy lane.

At that time, the breeze came slowly, and the flowers fell into the paper.The world of mortals outside the fence retreated far, far away.

The most beautiful thing is that the weather is fine, peanut trees are scattered, and warblers are flying around. We will deposit the white horse in a family in the market, and then hire a grasshopper boat, carrying songs and wine, and release the boat to Wuyue.The spring water outside the city wall is glistening, the boat is moving slowly, and the scenery along the way is infinite.We sang while drinking, not counting the fleeting years.When the dusk is dark, I want to spend time with you, play the flute and get jade.In the bumpy Zhoulan, whose black hair slipped down from the neck one by one, it has the silkiness of Jiangnan brocade.

At that time, the wine was half drunk and the song was dying.The boat is lying across the river, like three mountains on the sea, ethereal as immortals.

Or, I like your liking, follow your footsteps, follow you to the south of the Yangtze River, visit the fragrant past under the Xiling Bridge, and listen to the little quiet singing.Or go to Broken Bridge to see the thousand-year-old fate between Bai Suzhen and Xu Xian.The rainy season is continuous, if my delicate body can still bear it, then I will spare no effort and go to Tiaoxi outside the city to have a look.

At that time, Qian Liu's beautiful concubine Dai Shi returned to Hengxi's natal family, but Qian Liu still stayed in Hangzhou to take care of political affairs.One day, when he walked out of the palace gate, he saw that the West Lake embankment at the foot of Phoenix Mountain was already in full bloom.Thinking of not seeing his wife for many days, Qian Liu fell in love with the scene and felt so missed, so he returned to the palace and wrote: "The flowers on Moshang are blooming, but you can return slowly." The sedan chair was not safe, so they specially allocated money and sent people to build roads and fences.

I like the pity of this story, and the romance of the king's deep love for the beauty.Although the amorous king and beautiful concubine are long gone.But with your company, the journey in Tiaoxi must be very romantic.After the rain, the mountains are clear, the scenery is eye-catching, and the journey is fresh and beautiful.The flowers on the moor are full of flowers, like whose eyes have been full of love for thousands of years.Tonight, they seem to come faintly through the paper, affectionate and lingering.

Flowers bloom on Moshang, and spring returns slowly.The beauty of life lies in the unknown encounters one after another.Walking through the south of the Yangtze River, I met flowers blooming, beauty, you who are flamboyant in white clothes, and you who know and cherish each other.This should be the best memory of my life, like first love, like a poem, sweet and romantic, full of beauty.

Some people say that looking back 500 years in the previous life is only exchanged for a passing by in this life.There are thousands of people, our meeting in this life, our hand in hand, should be a marriage cultivated in many lifetimes.The smoke from the kitchens in the ancient town rises, lingering and lingering.Every place I walk with you, every moment I have an affair with you, is poetic and romantic, flowing in the air.Many times, I want to write my thoughts about you and the peach blossoms in the south of the Yangtze River into poems, and put them in front of my temples, watching them every day, never leaving.

To Jinling, to Weiyang, to Gusu, along the way, you call me Qingqing.Qingqing.Qingqing.In the words, it is the gentleness and style of Jiangnan.I look at you across the small bridge and flowing water in the south of the Yangtze River, through the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, and through the sound of flower sellers in the south of the Yangtze River, as if it is the whiteness and haze of the gardenia tree blooming.

At that time, you smiled and said to me that the girl is the most beautiful poem in the south of the Yangtze River, gentle, fragrant and soft, quiet and untainted.When you say you like me, it's like liking a poem...

Love is silent, and it turns a thousand times; love is silent, and it is joyful.I reminisce about your words, and in my heart, flowers have already bloomed into brocades, continuous and continuous.Yes, I like you, the like of a poem.

You know it.I like you, from the bottom of my heart.I want to go boating with you on the Qinhuai River in Jinling at night, and watch a song about the romance of princes and grandchildren behind the sound of oars and lights; I want to listen to music and have tea with you on the ancient theater in Wuzhen, and play the role of wedding candles for young ladies and scholars; I want to go to Gushan with you in the new sunshine after the rain, and pay homage to Lin Bu’s plum wife and crane son; Please tell the Buddha about your joy.

The Buddha knows that I like you, which is like a poem.

I like you, like a poem.This is my deepest emotion for you, and it is also my best wishes before Buddha.

Time less than you ever thought possible facial features

Qiongqiong's superb skills are priceless.The fingertips are slender and leisurely.How many square inches are related to love.All paid, stringed to write.Cold food night on March [-]th.Reflecting the flowers and the moon, and the wind blowing terraces.The bright moon is waiting for joy, behind the back of a long time, under the swing.

——Song·He Zhu's "Distinguishing the Sound of the Strings·Welcome Spring Music"

memory.past.light and shadow.Shaohua and Fleeting Years.

Walk for a lifetime, and meet again for a lifetime.Then, know each other and cherish each other, and never leave.This is my pursuit in this life, and it is also my hope and expectation for you.I hope to record every bit of you with a thousand pictures and 1 poses.Whether it is looking back at the corner of the alley, smiling under the peach blossom tree, frowning behind the Guqin stand, or thinking and nodding outside the classroom.I want to use the beauty I can imagine to describe and record you.In my memory, your tone of voice when you pronounce my name, and your smiling eyes, are always so gentle and true.Keep me warm, let me indulge.

When I flipped through the picture scroll, I couldn't help but think of you again.Remember that spring in Beijing?As soon as the willow trees in Houhai swayed gracefully, we held hands and walked across Yandai Xiejie, Yinding Bridge, and the long corridor of Houhai to find the young master’s Xifu crabapple.Pink flowers perched on the branches, full of Kazuki's prosperity.

You stand quietly under the crabapple tree, looking up at the flowers on the branches.Like a fairy outside the world, leaving the world in this scholarly and pure land.Occasionally, the wind blows and the flowers fall rustlingly. Your pretty and thin body is obliquely imprinted on the broken shadows of time, and it seems that you are going back on the plank road of time, and you are talking about lovesickness with the beautiful young man in white. "My sleeves are purple with the smoke from the stove, and my shirt is blue from the wine in the sky. Where in the world can I ask for love?"

When the crows are exhausted, who is the cause of Xiaoli's hatred?The sudden snow turned over the catkins in the Xiangge Pavilion, and the breeze blew the plums in the vase, and the heart word has turned to ashes.

——Nalan Xingde of the Qing Dynasty "Meng Jiangnan"

Under the flower tree, tell me the story of Nalan: "Rong Ruo is a gifted scholar of Xiangguo, who writes lyrics with less labor, and feels fresher in the fragrance, and elegant in the graceful place. It is really the so-called one who can't move a word Also. It's a pity that I went to study the essay early, so the so-called "rain in the sky, ghosts cry at night" really exists?" Your eyebrows are slender, clear and beautiful, and there is an indescribable blur in your eyes.

I suddenly thought, if you were in the previous life, would you have been my good son, in the prosperous world, we knew and cherished each other, clean and easy, not stained by a speck of dust.

Countless memories came one after another.

I still remember that time when we visited Xiangshan together, the maple leaves were full of trees, like burning red clouds.We walked and chatted all the way, about the poems in white clothes, about the romance of Xu Zhimo and Lin Huiyin staying in Xiangshan.At that time, you stood facing the wind outside the small bridge, with the wind blowing your clothes, you looked like a fairy.Those fragments of amorous feelings, such a beautiful past, always make me cry in memory.

(End of this chapter)