I wander in the Rose Garden again

Tonight, I wander in the Rose Garden again. The bright moon and the stars light up the whole garden, and the flowers in the moon are lingering around, and the fragrance is intoxicating. A wisp of warm, still fragrant, thorough heart, such as your hearty laughter, still lingering in my ears, lingering. Heart ups and downs in time, thoughts coagulate into petals falling, a bit of loneliness twines around the fingertips, and ink drops into a wisp of sadness.

The wind is singing and dancing, the red pieces are falling, and a curtain of dreams brings endless love. The moonlight, cool as water, fell lightly in my arms, and there was a little bit of cool and quiet cool on my fingertips. At this moment, how I miss your affectionate embrace, but you are thousands of miles away. Looking at the vast rose garden, the scenery is still the same, the roses are beautiful, once there were footprints of you and me dyeing fragrance everywhere, lingering, ethereal, infatuated, and always there are light dreams that you and I can't finish.

The night is still and the shadows are swaying. Looking at the distant shore, a curtain of rose dreams drifts down my mind like snow. In the streamer, I feel the yearning, warm and fragrant. A wisp of Acacia locks the eyebrows. At such a night, yearning is always infected by light sadness, and a wisp of mood lingers in the darkness of midnight.

Meeting you was really the most beautiful accident in my life. When you look back at that moment, that one eye with a dense tenderness and care, the moment when your eyes touch, gazing affectionately, unfolds a dust relationship. How lucky to meet you in the light lotus fragrance. Melted my lonely ice heart for thousands of years, but also tactfully turned my tender heart which has been sealed with dust for a long time! On that day, we clung to each other, bathed in the sun, enjoyed the beauty of flowers and willow rhymes together, and listened to the voice of roses in the moonlight. The most beautiful south of the Yangtze River, the years flowing fragrance, a dream field, heart flower blossoming.

Love is just like a beautiful rose. It is tempting, eye-catching and beautiful. It has always been brilliant. It has opened all over the mountains and the countryside, smelling refreshing and showing the shape of happiness. Because of you, the beautiful dream has been growing in my heart; Because of you, the scenery here is more beautiful; Because of you, no matter how big the storm is, I will not hesitate; Because of you, my world is no longer lonely!

But, on the world of mortals, it's too short to get together. Finally, one day you went away for your career and left me alone in a quiet place. Since then, the farthest you have become my latest watchman. The roses in the garden can't be broken. Looking from afar, we once had a get-together and had a few fantasies that you were there smiling

I yearn for you with my fingers interlocked and lingering among the clouds. There is no envious vision, no wind and rain all around the city, only the wind blowing over my ears, only the clouds passing over my head, leaning against your chest, listening to your heart beat, feeling your charming breath, gentle words, and whispering fragrant thoughts. Don't ask for high office and high salary, just for love.

A trace of landscape, a parting, who is missing? An Acacia, just under the brow but on the heart. Counting how many days and nights we have gone through, yearning for us to be together as petals.

The clean moonlight floats with faint fragrance, and the roses stir up the ambiguities of the night. I cut the moonlight as a note, and use missing as a pen to write a long life for you. I gently dance on the fingertips of fleeting years, carry a wisp of missing, twist flowers into dreams, and watch the end of the world. What's the end of the day? Pick up all the scenery for you and sing for you.

The night is long and sleepless, the cold stars are shining, the silent moon is silent, and thoughts are fluttering like flowers, winding the warmth around the fingertips, giving birth to poetic verdant. The feeling is soft, but the heart is still. Only one heart is exiled in the glazed moonlight night, making the moonlight like water fragrant in romantic memory. Make a cup of coffee, melt into the warm glow of the moonlight, and your heart will spread with the moonlight. Idiotic wait for an inexplicable marriage, silent as porcelain, waiting for Acacia year after year, living in Sangtian across the sea. Don't look down on the beauty of the world, but you are my favorite. In this life, I will give you a warm heart, rub all the countless strands into my arms, and keep an eternal agreement, waiting for your unknown return date.

If there is no time to return, you can only be a light woman with a clear moon and a clear breeze. You can keep your peace of mind by lowering your eyebrows. You can send a piece of paper with deep feelings wandering in the moonlight to talk with you. It has nothing to do with romance and landscape. I hope you can set foot on your way home as soon as possible, so that we can live in peace and harmony with the time, never leave to watch the flowing water, and live and die together, and taste the poems and paintings of the world!

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