A clear sound of birds roused the sleeping earth. The village, packed up the depression left by the winter, decorated the spring with flowers. In the ink, the fresh, quiet and rusty ploughs rubbed in the soil in the fields, and the earth became dignified in poetry. In the vagueness, there is an empty echo. I smell the smell of the earth, and it is like a dialect of spring. The heart is wrapped in green jade, extending all the way to the sky. The hoof prints worn by the old cows are printed on the paper of the earth, just like flowers. In the spring, it was bright. The wind warms the wind and leads the country for a year in the country. The father's bullwhip wobbles on his shoulders, swaying and swaying, involving the crop's harvest. The plants planted in the crop fields are no longer plants, but a warm pronoun, a rural punctuation, a clean thought. In the autumn of Fengqi, the days of the philosophical cultivation of life, the years turned into land, the rake of thought crossed
, and another kind of splendor in life. All living beings in the world are worthy of respect. In the thick dictionary of the country, I read the rhyme of life, the beauty of life. Fill the empty days with love, go on the road in the spring, and poetically look at the eyes of spring
. The plough of life has also begun to start, with the essence of love, with the spring. The buzzing cups, wine, or water in the country may be an old hint in the country. In the shallow time, in a simple time, the earthly style was sung in a simple and thick tune. After a while, the snoring sounded open the door of the farmhouse. The woman in the gauze was sitting in the sedan chair, and the bearer carried the sedan chair and walked around the people's eyes. Who is the new wife and the spring is new. The flowers are new. The new daughter-in-law is also new. In the snoring, a sparkling word is also the tone of the new setback, which is melodious and melodious. The bragging person, bulging the gang, blowing his face ruddy. The tune is ups and downs with the fingers of the monks. Or uninhibited, or as delicate as silk. Listening, it��s the notes of the country, blowing the days of happiness. Life is an agreement. Thousands of years ago and after the millennium, it was a story. Being able to walk together is the scream of fate and happiness for a new couple. A sigh of joy, a joy in the countryside. The heart of the tentacles touched each other, I woke up in the scenery of my hometown change. The heavy snoring takes away a question of the world, leaving a piece of generosity and beauty. Career, love, life, in the snoring, there are exquisite rumors. Prosperity is like water, and simplicity is a kind of height. Walking in the spring of the country, looking at the spring, the spring is speechless, only the sound of the flowers in the Tang poetry is a woman in the spring countryside
. A flower, opencker in the spring. This is not a flower of the millennium. Tang poetry is the soul of the millennium. Arriving in my heart is just a calm and light flower in the Tang poetry, people live in the world of vicissitudes. Beauty and ugliness, good and evil, have a dividing line. I am inside, who is outside, the most important thing is the lamp in his hand. On the plains of the year, life is a piece of paper. The flowers bloomed in the Tang poetry, and the old wells in the old days were covered with slate, with moss, and there were ancestral surnames. The fragrance of the flowers makes people feel like they are separated. One chasing a flower, one foot and one foot measuring the life. The brightness of life sings a spring. I read the book of the country, and the flowers are more accessible than the Buddha. Far or near, just the distance in the heart. In the Tang poetry, people will also walk with a layer of illusory dreams. The folk masters are also a grass flower in the Tang poetry. The life is humble, but the fragrance is a lifetime.