, dark, I woke up from a sweet dream, by window, look to the sky of spring-fed, thought, emotion, the rays of the howl of the wind blowing, swarthy treetops to express joy twisted by n oise sound, as if asleep murmured softly. The morning sun broke through the veil of the night the last layer of black, the red red glow, as if the little girl shy face in purdah, inadvertently pulled long shadows, look very graceful. The birds wake up, the crisp sound from the deep valley, like the sound of heaven, the spring tinkling sound, together into a wonderful original ecological symphony.
How pleasant all this was, perhaps they had given their hearts full of tenderness to this beautiful song, perhaps the happy wings were soaked in this soft red light. Maybe the vast sky is the heaven of love, and a miracle of love will happen. The red sun is the warmth and hope of their love. The woods and streams are the harbours of their love. I am waiting for you in the distance, whether you are still in the distant land meditation, only hate oneself have no wings, cannot fly to your blooming place.
Want to use a warm pen, depict these pure and pure streamer seriously, but draw not give a thousand miles away the hazy scene. The wind blows, everything is awake, only my original heart is difficult to calm. Think farther than the sea, think farther than the sky. A lovesick and a pen and ink. But the warm smile in the dream, solidified yesterday's elegant cloud smoke. No matter the spring, autumn, winter and summer, no matter the day and night, the tender intestine is wrapped around the leisurely missing; Think of those who burn their love. Maybe it's just because the furthest distance in the world is endless missing.