In the dream, the familiar south of the Yangtze River has been repeatedly mentioned service apartments, and the beginning of each dream starts from spring. The catkins, propped up a blue heart. The peach blossom was bought by the sunshine of March, and it was heated and warmly opened. Who in this garden, Yan Yan to fly, the peach tree such as beat the flames, the smoke was spit feeding, curled away. The boy riding a white horse, with a folding Willow Road leisurely, hoof splashed fragrant dust, slowly. And you over a stream, quietly, a person riding a cloud back. I was the poet, in a wall, you see the slim figure walking in the wind, as if flying, before join socks with fragrant breeze, Luo Yin, the dream is like deja vu, for baidu. Into the flowers, flashing sunlight back, behind a tree peach, gently laugh out loud. I have some trance start hong kong company, blurred my long-awaited eyes, calm some heart throb. A little more trance, and I'm really drunk. The smell of the wall in the flowers, the restless mind, have an excuse, knocking down the copper ring green moss. You appear again, with a spring makeup, falling into my eyes. I plunge into the eyes like a ray of sunshine, a peach, the wind in the light, the clouds in the Shu dance, flowers in the swaying, you're there, this is my fingers Nianhua smile, often dream away thinking of beauty? You act on the shoulders of the landing twist ripe peach, spring shifted, invited me to tea gossip, breeze as before, some warm, sad, do not think that far. I'm really drunk, a lot of sleep, this spring. I am not against poetry poet, forget how lyric. Each valve crashed into the dust linting story, let the wind to express feelings, let the rain go after writing, must be clearly Mei Mei, weathered the years to replace. Besides love, what else can I have wine wset?.
