Poetic sentences about sentimental classics To be absolutely classic?

The love is broken, I can't tie it up, try to let go, go or not, stay or not, I don't want to understand. If love has never come, if dreams have never been broken, if my heart has never hurt, then I, am I still the person you know? The moon is dusk, the hibiscus flowers bloom in the dream, a song leaves the wound, and finally falls, only the barren remains.

There is a lot of autumn wind and rain. Outside the curtain, there are three or two plantains, and the night is long. When I choose to stay in the blue sky to be a flower that guards the other side of happiness, the flower blooms without leaves, the leaves grow without flowers, and I miss each other but cannot see each other, I can't bear to give up my wings, I will smile and hold the hand of happiness and freeze it in tears, even though I have lost.

The flowers on the other side, the flowers bloom without leaves, the leaves have no flowers, and they cherish each other but do not see each other. Love is precious only when it is divided, and many people don't know how to cherish it. I don't see it until I lose it, but in fact, the most familiar is the most precious.

Should I count your heart with the stars, or should I count the stars in the sky with you? What you miss, you want. What is not missed can be accepted calmly.

Smiling, not because you have been happy for too long, but because you have forgotten to be sad for too long. There is no joy, the smile is still there. There are no fairy tales, childhood is still there.

If you break up alive, even if the mountains and rivers are far away and the world is vast, there is always hope and opportunity to meet again; Now, across the line between life and death, the dead are ignorant of the world, and the living are the same for the dead?! Loving husband and wife, withdrawing forever, time flies, ten years in a flash.

The emotional undercurrent that has been cherished for a long time is suddenly like a floodgate opening wide, surging and unstoppable. If there is a dream, it is real and natural. Thinking of the death of my lover, I am filled with emotion.

Thousands of miles away, there is nowhere to talk about desolation, and words are painful. If the grave is close to us, can it be desolate if it is separated from life and death?

How many people has Rain loved in his life?

How much love and hate in how much rain.

An oil-paper umbrella full of sad verses.

Cast the shadow of who is lonely.

Tide green on moss.

Continues to the top of the ink.

Tightly wrapped in lonely and fragile feelings.

Waiting for the colorful butterfly to break out of the cocoon, who is sad for how many times?

The rain is a sad tear that washes away.

I was not born, and I was old.

You hate me for being late, and I hate you for being early.

I was not born, and I was old.

Hate is not born at the same time, day by day with the king.

I was born before I was born, and I am old when you were born.

I am far from the end of the world, and you are separated from my cape.

I was born before I was born, and I am old when you were born.

Butterflies go to find flowers, and perch on fragrant grass at night.

Jun Sheng, I am not born" This poem was written by Tang Wuming.

This is the version circulated on the Internet.

It is written about the helplessness of fate and love.

Flowers bloom and fall without regrets, and fate comes and goes like water.

Flowers bloom for flowers, and flowers fly for flowers to be sad.

Flowers are sad for tears, and tears are broken flowers.

Flowers dance, flowers cry, flowers cry, petals fly.

Flowers bloom for whom to thank, flowers for whom to grieve.

The provenance of Remnant Butterfly is unknown.