Elegant and bamboo, playing the piano to welcome guests. The moon is bright and the wind is clear. Quietly into the quiet bamboo building, the wind with a wisp of flowers, gently brushed the eyebrows drunk in the depths of the soul. Butterfly dances and flowers fly, and ink is stained with dust. When meeting, the voice is warm and colorful, and when meeting, the expression is refreshing and elegant. Once met, time flies, lingering in this life, a book has been fragrant, writing down a lifetime of friendship. & ltproinsight-br>。 The wind in June brushed the soul of the flower, drunk in the bamboo house, sighing the fleeting time of the flower, and falling with the wind in a season of exhausted love. Dust is three thousand, and friendship is endless. Just to meet in this life, people are far away from each other, but they meet in bamboo clothes. Wading all the way, just for pen and ink, ink fragrance, flat water to meet bosom friends. A piece of ancient rhyme dyed poetry, the beauty flicked like a dream south of the Yangtze River, cut out a line of fine print, and expressed her affection for the bright moon in front of the window, as if floating from the ink of Tang poetry and Song poetry. & ltproinsight-br>。 Bamboo shadow hides a small building, and the breeze falls a little. Who writes poetry and paints in the south of the Yangtze River, splashing ink and painting a picture of human misty rain. If the pen falls on your face, who will it stay for? Time should not be printed with words to remember the past. Deep in the bamboo forest, misty rain is clear in autumn, whose pen is pouring out the sorrow of rainy lane, and whose shallow pen is expressing the vastness of misty rain in Xiaoxiang. Whose tenderness drops ink, a lotus pond poem under the moonlight on the headland, fragrant and colorful lotus flowers, with a pool of lotus rhyme, fall on the Zixuan in Zhu Qing. & ltproinsight-br>。 Looking at the moon in the bamboo forest, the shadows of the flowers are oblique, and listening to the talented women playing the piano with all their immature voices. Lead flowers are like washing the world like a song, and the flowers are dyed in front of you. The night is quiet and affectionate. In a gentle moonlight, listen to a fallen flower and pick a heart fragrance. Think more, a gardenia fragrance, in the fleeting time, quietly sitting in the ink fragrance of pen and ink, enjoying the lovesickness words of beautiful women. Whispering on the shutter, facing the sadness at the window, whose feelings are rubbed into the sadness of pen and ink, after all, it is a sky-blue encounter, and a curved arch eyebrow depicts a curved bitterness, whose lovesickness flower is tender and light in the moonlight. & ltproinsight-br>。 The fragrance of pen and ink imbues the lonely soul. I am immersed in the faint sadness between the lines and feel the faint bitterness. I appreciate the sadness of beautiful women in pen and ink, which is probably the fate of passing by in previous lives. In this life, we meet here, bamboo is dancing for you, walking gracefully in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. A clear word is written to Qing, and how many calligraphy words leave how many thoughts, and the faint handwriting is across the heart. & ltproinsight-br>。 An elegant person, dressed in misty rain and plain makeup, walked in an orderly way by the smoky lake in Liu Di. Swallows and butterflies dance picturesque in the south of the Yangtze River, and I count the fallen flowers at the broken bridge. Smoke from kitchen chimneys curled up and met the world, just like the moon in the water, lingering around the world. The wealth of pen and ink, the smoke and sand that can't be hidden in half a city, how many lonely feelings, and the thick ink fragrance reproduce the fragrance of friendship. A season of flowers, a lifetime of friendship, with a ray of broken incense slowly dispersed in the bamboo building. & ltproinsight-br>。 How many people have you met in your life? Time flies, time flies, the old man's face changes. Stubborn in one thought, I wrote all kinds of difficulties and dangers, met with bamboo rhyme, laughter, shallow wishes and deep feelings, crossed the green mountains and white clouds, bypassed the sadness of the sky and crossed the end of time. On the night of falling flowers, I was holding a cup of green tea, banging on the keyboard, dispelling Qian Qian's knot, washing away a little sadness, and listening to my own heart music, suddenly I felt very sad. A word can solve a thousand worries. After mourning, I was immersed in endless concern and impulse. & ltproinsight-br>。 Never regret, this is the fate of several generations of talents. Even if you are at the end of the world, I am at the cape and meet in the bamboo forest. You come quietly, bamboo fragrance, waving goodbye, pen and ink. If possible, please remember that you and I once stood, please remember that we met with time all our lives. & ltproinsight-br>。 Time flies, the years are quiet and the bamboo is elegant. Who are you waiting for? Put pen to paper, satisfied with the world Biluochun Dongting Biluochun