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And the

From the beginning,
dark roof, damp mist, the woman with a Su Yi, co-filled mind, sitting under the window.
window no banana, no rain, not even look and figure.
her to a dark background from Nama, the plucked strings of the arms, until the moss slipping notes Piaoyuan.

also blame the distance, sunset vast, lightly in water and wind, want to hold too many complaints of frustration.
and similar women, too. Or gazing, or meditation, through the story, but also there will be some coincide and sorrow.
always thought that this note is winged. And butterflies are dragonflies, or just the soul wings.
Dream lofty cliff drop, the birds are scared Xiao choke. Hurt the soul of the woman, the most is that it stop the petals.
example, the dial, is the soul, dial, or the soul.
both heart and soul convergence of melancholy, but not even looking for trail riding horse, but not the wind in the desert looking for accounts, but also a bomb at the roundabout, the open like lotus. Is there anyone who saw the cloak

pupil of the eye under the water, Nama lookout look.
roundabout, has been swing. See also the old moon was round, Su Yi woman, dark windows. I am in a position where
,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Bogeng stiffness, dizziness and see stars.
like to see the impact of instant charm. The thinking of flying in the air, laughing into ridicule.
shadows,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], light Diaoqi. People with injuries sculpture.

playing song if the woman is described by a Fox Pu.
listen to music this woman is a drop of dew on the glass, bead line.
trivial and small, thin and thin,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], are appearance, can be accumulated into a scale of.
sad but can not speak sad, sorrowful sadness, ups and downs, but it is thought,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], can be fatal.
piano, real estate broker. Heart, the middle of the night.
fingers, glide to a soft wind. Then, let the sound, broken in less than cover the face.

that day, she told me: She saw his own blood, the cold marble blossoming, and withering.
that moment, I think of this song sounded silk thread, while the sun and night, like the mouth of a mass of clay birds.
frosted little bit this winter, the snow is small. Who dream scenery? Who dreams and all the way west?
through the palm of the pattern, finally at your fingertips,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], or circle, such as Wang, or Yang, through nothingness.
and we, in these different password, the decomposition with all sorts of grief.

only through the soul, then, detention soul.
plucked and listening, we are the concrete and real.
let us sit back edge of another faith, to see the Buddha, listening.
This elegant, solemn words, is the heart of Lake of the stars scattered islets.
and the night will wake up feeling like we are, there will be sunshine and smiles.
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