63 old heart-wrenching sentences
Second, the flowers and the moon are blurred, and there is no desire to look through the curtain.
Third, the wheat waves have turned sunny and the wind has turned willow, which has passed the spring injury.
Fourth, my tears turn into rain, and I can't bear to get wet with you.
Five, drifting away, I am still guarding you on the other side.
Six, spring to spring, beauty is old, flowers fall and people die.
Seven, I left a photo of Ying Gang tonight, afraid to meet each other like a dream.
Eight, the traces of time are too deep, and how much prosperity has turned into smoke.
Nine, busy days are bitter, idle days are few, and new troubles often continue the old ones.
Ten, no * * * flowers bloom, even the bright flame of love, is there only ashes? .
Eleven, Cao Fang smoke Nanpu Road, and don't cry, look at the castle peak.
Twelve, store the eternal love line and crush the deep red acacia.
Thirteen, there are tears at the beginning of the letter, and the wife is surprised and asks why.
Fourteen, youth, get their hands on the fleeting time, fleeting time, broken face.
Fifteen, Fenghua is quicksand, and it has been wet for a while.
Sixteen, you didn't mean to flow, but it happened that you were attracting mountain torrents alone.
Seventeen, your sunset, my face, whose one-third year.
18, drinking thousands of feet, it is difficult to wave a wisp of affection.
There are hundreds of beauties and millions of reds in the world, but you are my favorite.
Twenty, several times lamented the joys and sorrows of generations, ridiculous life is not up to me.
Twenty-one, the bright moon building rests alone, and the wine turns into acacia tears.
Twenty-two, ten miles of peach blossoms, burning its brilliance, looking back and smiling, peerless elegance.
Twenty-three, once upon a time, before the flowers and under the moon. Today next year, the ends of the earth.
Twenty-four, the breeze is wet, and the tea smoke blows. Relive the old dream, the old friend has gone.
Twenty-five, birds are still in pairs, and one is dead. But Iraqis shed two lines of tears.
Twenty-six, don't make a promise to me easily, the oath will only be a lie in the end.
Twenty-seven, memories are like graves, as fragile as ever. Should we forget each other in the Jianghu?
Twenty-eight, Yumenguan, willow green fleeting time, gold word residual, ask, when to return.
Twenty-nine years old, even this bright flame of love will only have ashes? Yesterday was half an inch, today is half an inch.
Thirty, as beautiful as flowers and jade, like water flowing; I can go back, but I can't go back to the beginning.
Thirty-one, break the light, miss the wood, a lover begins at the bottom of the cliff, and there is no long-term from the wooden lattice.
Thirty-two, whoever has the beauty has a panoramic view, and whoever has the sadness.
Thirty-three, actors into the painting, endless. That year, in the prime of life, whoever promised to die.
34. picturesque mountains and rivers. I will fight for the world and make you prosperous.
Thirty-five, the sunset is silent, lonely and speechless, carving beams and painting buildings, looking in all directions.
Thirty-six, lonely boudoir, one inch of sorrow. Cherish the spring to go, when to rush the rain.
37, the fog dispersed, woke up, I finally saw the truth, that is, silent Qian Fan.
Thirty-eight, the past is fleeting by time, fleeting, and hastily cast a touch of sadness.
Thirty-nine, the dream is full of flowers and good; The strings of learning the piano in the pavilion are broken, which is endless and desolate.
Forty, Han Xiao is boundless, holding prosperity and sadness, frowning, destined to be a thing of the past.
Forty-one, ten years of life and death, nothing to think about, unforgettable, lonely grave thousands of miles away, nowhere to be sad.
Forty-two, take my Chang 'an, break into your Jiangnan, and use my half-life fireworks to make you confused all your life.
Forty-three, a generation of two people, fighting for two ecstasy. Acacia don't look at each other, who is spring?
Forty-four, even if it is beyond redemption, even if I miss you deeply, I will treat you with the same eyebrow eye, and the years will remain the same.
45. Baling Bridge on Xiangyang Ancient Road. Poetry prospers in autumn. Romantic figures through the ages, how many heroes at one time.
Forty-six, my heart is full of thoughts, thousands of miles away. The scenery is fine, there is no mutual sympathy!
Forty-seven, have you always been like this, quietly staring at the sunset and the sadness of homelessness?
Forty-eight, finally covered the world for the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. After the glory of China, it was just a scene, and the mountains and rivers were silent forever.
Forty-nine, misty rain and red dust, little tears, endless sorrow, such as misty rain, endless sigh of love, such as red dust.
Fifty, long arms are broken, and the wind and rain turn into tears. A little sadness turns into running water. Swallows fly together, close at hand.
51. The moon under the sea is the moon in the sky, and the person in front of you is a sweetheart. Always be a spectator, but people are people in the play.
Fifty-two, see the thirty-third house, the highest is not far from hating the sky; It is difficult to get sick for 440 times, and the most bitter thing is long-term care.
Fifty-three, listen to the string break, break three thousand infatuation. Falling flowers, forgetting, once the wind rippled. If the flower is pitiful, it will fall on whose fingertips.
54. I hide myself in the corner where happiness can't be found, leaving only decadent company, and loneliness is also laughing at my depravity.
Fifty-five, all kinds of today, like water. Tomorrow night, you will be a stranger. For whom to live, for whom to die, and for whom when dreams are shattered.
Fifty-six, the love of this life is worth missing, waiting for the flowers to bloom all over the sky. I only hope that * * * you will never forget, never look back and smile at the scenery thousands of miles away.
57. Eternal love, whoever finds it, who leaves it behind, who forgets the past, who always cares. Recall that year, who ordered acacia to plant peach blossoms.
58. There must be something I can't do. Otherwise, how can the alternation of day and night be so fast? All the moments have been missed, and sadness is eating away at my heart.
Fifty-nine, turn around, a ray of cold fragrance is far away, and the snow is deep and smiling. Will you fight me in the afterlife? Always born in a casual year. Look back at the other side. Even if it is found that the situation is longer.
Sixty years old, feelings are hard to give up, and it is hard to stay in my heart. It's another moonlit night, and it turns into sand between your fingers in a blink of an eye. It is better to live forever, forget each other, go home, see the green hills looming, run all the way, and look at the horizon.
Sixty-one, life is like a thorn, the heart does not move, people do not move, and if they do not move, they will not hurt; If the heart moves, if people move wildly, it hurts the body and bones, so they realize all kinds of pains in the world.
Sixty-two, I am not you, and I don't know Iraq from him. It's okay to come and go. I am very sad and happy, and I also said that I am very close and intimate. It used to be boring, but now it's boring in retrospect!
Sixty-three, the oath is gone forever, the flowers are haggard and sad, and you are gone. The once prosperity has declined, leaving only fragmented beauty. Iraqis are heartbroken, heroes do not regret, pass by without nostalgia, flowers are numerous, flowers wither, flowers are incomplete, flowers fail, flowers spend their whole lives in tears, waiting helplessly and sadly for the next reincarnation.