Under the pen of messy gorgeous, will turn into who heart pain? One day, our story, I may remember, I might forget. But after a few years, we have been scattered, goodbye without period.

-- "

Xue Tao's note, fall red countless, as I write, can anyone understand? Hazy, put all the sad, beautiful story into paper airplanes flying in the sky. From then on, my memory, only gorgeous commotion.

( a )

I do not know that the Mo face, whether such as at first, every twinkle and smile, still beautiful.

Random write down memories, those stories, about you or gorgeous, or sad. Just because once once obsessed with the beautiful dream in the rain, I fell in love with the south, love also love Jiangnan you.

A column of sandalwood, read a poem, numerous hills and streams of thoughts to climb, finally reached you said the memory of Jiangnan, really like the general beauty in your dreams, it is still a quiet.

Prosperous glass debris, reflects the folds of a quality suggestive of poetry or painting in the sunlight. Side of the Avon, Yue Qing Ling clear blue water. Then, you sit in the blue boat, bright makeup Yan in the green lake ice, I crossed the slowly from the ancient stone bridge, looking at the oars into clips shore willow knead in the water out of my mind, I even saw past life in the quiet water, also saw life, including you, including I.

Memory of the gallery, turned the streets having an antique flavour, still heard ringing and euphonic sound from the alley, then you, in the stone road on the vicissitudes of life, attitude and, as I had, at that time there was no end, no end, only a simple goodbye, and a simple miss.

Now, just see oil a baking paint but has been largely faded away with the passage of time the doors, it already with the memory of weathering loft, open in the lonely sound, has not had the bustling downtown, no more. Once again I swim, and did not meet Dai Wangshu's, that support women's umbrella, such as lilac, also did not see you in the flowers.

From time to time, the sky began to rain, I was the Jiangnan rain in the street, the fine cool, misty rain days of blue, wet I like snow white, also wet the memory of your hair, and together under the pear tree. And remember, that year, you and I together on the shelter from the rain under the eaves, listening to the ticking of the rain, we looked each other in the embarrassed look, both a laugh.

Fleeting time, have no you, Jiangnan, nor have we had to chase the footprint.

So far, I can think of is, that one day, I promise you promise, that I will take you there to Jiangnan roof down rain day, listening to the steady and sound, and then settled in Jiangnan, each other 's life.

Is it right? Time is too long, the promise in ruhuameijuan time broken, a fall of grief. Think with you to walk in Jiangnan, Jiangnan alley. And now, is it right? I let you wait too long, too long, you have been unwilling to wait any longer.

You can choose to go to the old in the oath, the flying pear south alley, can not stop my heart rain, thin, Qin bone cold.

If, you have from my world go, go so easily. If you don't turn down another man's invitation. You and with whom the white-collar vows, we agreed to meet, but you did not appear.

It has lost too much time, your face is no longer. I don't know if you remember, then there was a man, in order to your Jiangnan and stubborn seeking. Now numerous umbrella walking beside the woman, the willowy figure, like a very miss you.

Memory, think of that year we first met, you told me a bright smile, love dearly unceasingly.

Jingdanban Road, have no the mark. Jiangnan accompanied me, now, only the rain.

Two.

Clear song Weiyang, flourishing flourishing at the fingertips of gorgeous dance, finally, ambiguous text can no longer afford broken memories, and memories, become messy.

I do not know is who said that, the child of God has slender fingers, the child of God will know that the text in the fingertips dancing. I'm not the children of God, but let the words every day and night non-stop, as you dance, and the lonely melody.

The disciples said, as if I retire, be cynical. I'm just smiled.

Red it is so easy to survey of broken, if so, then the day and night lonely, how unwarranted interference with thoughts, finally, in the fall of the mottled memory.

I'm really drunk in the red dust, drunk in his hand - woven beauty, drunk in the boundless promise, drunk in the south of the Yangtze River, which is easy to let the men of literature and writing the ecstasy of the place.

But let me drunk, is you, let me awake remember is you. I was standing in a room of the city's many times a window behind, in the dead of desolation, watching the lights of Flower City, listening to the wind in each house, words like a wizard-like dance on the paper. But finally they all disappeared, leaving only the full of tears.

I miss you in the south, even stubborn think that thousands of lights must hide your Jiangnan, I will not sleep in the night, lit a dim lamp, for your shadow, Tongtong, waiting for your swift return.

In June, the cool breeze, above the city with the slightest drizzle over where I, bright eyes seemed to emerge the river, full of a kind of do not call on the name of the flower, a beautiful anomaly, cluster around him, rolled up her petals, looks that biting, blurred.

Later, I just know, he called the equinox flower. Doomed, once the flowers, they can never meet again.

The shallowness of the time, I often holding memories back through the past, then, is Yan purple orchid flowers. At that time, you said to me, you hope to one day on the roof of his house full of violet, when we lie together in a beautiful violet, sweet sleep.

Whether you will come back, if you will, when you come, the flower is, we together again, or you for me to play the piano, and I draw a picture for you.

Today, I stand in a large bright violet when, as if to see that promise you, miss like wind in the violet in memory in the wild. And I thought, then, quietly blooming.

When you come across, we, together plexus violet flowers? Turned the moment, the memory covered with purple petals, I will collect carefully these fall fine slender petals, like my thoughts of you in general.

In June, when shadow in the time of light at. Dream all about you, tears fell down. I have found this life, you are my forever memory. Although one day will be the sea flooded, also poured life without regret.

The night is cold, the messy text, the messy memories, are still kept in the messy, messy.

I miss you, dance gorgeous in the wind, the last dance, all the tears and pain are into nothingness.

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