Your Jiangnan, I have not walked

I used to love classical, never doubted classical beauty.

In the mind of the classical beauty, is graceful, subtle, lingering, a kind will be cooked not ripe temperament, no desert solitary smoke straight, long river sunset round of straightforward and lonely, not drunk midnight See sword, dream back to blow the camp's chill and strong, like Jiangnan woman, gentle, poor, affectionate, with a slight melancholy of the feelings.

Yes, the purpose of this article is not to write classical, but to write the Jiangnan, winding a lot of dream places.

Love the Dunru of the first "hope Jiangnan": Inflammation of the day forever, the night of the month invaded the bed. A clump of lotus leaves, Hibiscus fragrant and fine water cool. On the pillow is Xian xiang. And do not delve into the background of CI and the incisive use of words, because always do not love this beautiful sentence and other factors fused together, that, destroy beauty. Every time I look at this word, my heart is like a white scroll slowly unfold. A cool cold moon hanging in the sky, like a smooth jade, shines into the window, spread silver bed, I do not know to see this month's old man, have you ever thought of that a touch of the string move? Full Lake Lotus leaf is complex, handan fragrance happens, as with the most lethargy scattered posture, lying in this by the world wantonly carved in the big bed, smell lotus incense, product breeze, listen to fine water long yin, view Huring Moon. Saharan！ Idyllic, now only belong to me a person, do not know in the other end of the world, whether there is a person son is head Pillow Fairy township, and I enjoy a round of bright moon. I think, the poet must be romantic and affectionate son, if in the south of the Lotus Leaf met a month under the woman, may gladly invite, Lotus A, Fu word a, gift to the girl, Bomi a smile.

Do not hate, hate extremely in the horizon. Mountain month do not know heart thing, water wind downs in front of flowers, swaying bi-yun oblique. Wen this first "Yi Jiangnan", but is a little bit melancholy, silk regret. With a weak knowledge of ancient prose, Win Jun This "hate" fear is also take "regret" meaning it. Any said regret, is all with the loneliness of the feelings, everyone has their own regrets, so see the word mood, presumably are different. What do you regret? Lianshan also do not know your heart of that a touch of melancholy, I do not know when tonight is the moonlight, also do not know what the Ming Dynasty is the micro-rain, but the melancholy, quietly sway in the wind, fleeting, looking back, has disappeared. Little rain falling petals, water wind downs, perhaps you are not in front of this picture. Whether, think of Jiangnan Meiyu, that a sound of delicate? Walk in the erhu vaguely Li, and that a soft girl dressed in red, a total of all the way ink umbrella. Unfortunately, in your my life, only this short section of Lane road, is traversed together, although regrettable, but also perfect. After all, in our life, there are always so many such as falling petals, they gently across your life, leaving a little traces, even if a small traces are not willing to leave you. So there are regrets encounter, it will be very beautiful. and bi-yun Lang empty, also only swaying in your heart, become the most precious memories. Such a fine texture of the screen, let you Changha Wolf-Feng, you can not fully interpret it!

Your Jiangnan, I have never been. Only from the face of the paper, but often in the dream to come to this paradise on Earth, like an outsider, see Miss Lover's Girl rinse wash, alone in the Wangjiang building, the thousand sail people are not near, see Liuqiao send friends, see people are also worried about life, not to mention the customs, and see the blue, the screen red banana, night boat long plum cooked day, flute sound wan rain xiaoxiao.

That dense in the ink between the graceful woman, you can for me, in the south of the pretty, holding a fresh umbrella, stroll lemon slate? Suddenly looking back, time has quietly gone, your this wipe secluded, will be the world's most brilliant painter, with his Metsian, Sway in heaven and earth, Eternal.

Your Jiangnan, I have not walked.