Looking back at the amber color of the three lives, turn around and be glazed white! Where do these

Source: "One Person, One City, a Life of Distress" that I met for the first time

The meaning of this sentence is: when I think back to the time when we were separated in the north of the city, it seems that three lives and three lives have passed.

The tears that were shed at that time had been turned to amber. At the same time, I remembered that I was separated again in another place, and even if I was reborn once, I still couldn't escape the result of separation.

Colored glass, also known as "ruglas", is made of various colors (colors are made up of various metallic elements.

produced) of artificial crystals.

contains 24% lead dioxide) as raw materials, fired at a high temperature of more than 1,000 degrees Celsius to make rare ornaments. There is a sense of separation here.

Similar archaic love sentences.

1. Spring is curling, only laughing at the people outside the wall, with white hair and flowers.

2. When you think of it, the end of the world is at hand; A thought is extinguished, and the end of the world is at hand.

3. Look at the broken bones all over the field, and the dry bones for thousands of years.

4. Thousands of mountains and rivers should be used as foreshadowing, and you will always be met, long overdue.

It is online literature, a person, a city, and a lifetime of distress. Text: First encounter.

The city wall paints dreams, and kites fly by. In the old days, the incense path of the small town wandered alone. If you want to put your heart into Yaoqin, there are few bosom friends, who will listen to the broken strings?

Flowers fall spontaneously, and the evening fragrance cries at night. The makeup building is deep, and the silent rouge tears dry the heart. Plain flowers, green mountains are wet, and the snow is full of mountains.

A small town in the Tang Dynasty, a dream tour. The frost day dawns and the corners call for spring sorrow. The wind blew the yellow sand, blowing into a desert that filled the sky for thousands of years, guarding the empty city alone, and guarding a ten-year long meditation.

The Ming Dynasty has become a strange road. The stars in the sky pierce the lovesickness. Quicksand at the fingertips, leaking the New Year. Half leaning on the Xuan Tower, under the shadow of the moon, the night scene is bleak. When you ask the wine and sing, it is difficult to stop the tears from flowing.

Su curtain covered, Qin Se broke lovesickness, and the candle shadow was shaken. The night west wind, the broken strings are repeated, and another song. The rainy season is empty, covering up the prosperity. Beicheng farewell, looking back at the amber color of Sansheng. Xicheng Jue, turn around and be glazed white.

Alone, pour a glass and get drunk. On the attic platform, Xiaoyue is cold in the window, and tears flow before speaking. Look at the passing snow without a trace, and the falling flowers silently. The snow pours cold plums, Sima Qingshan. Alone in the empty city, his heart is haggard.

Painting sand in dreams, and painting of kites. Chengxiang lacks a month, hanging dredging tongs. Mo on Eve is like water, and the purple fragrance is slow. The moon shines on the pear blossoms, the dark fragrance is sparse, the glass of wine is poured, and the west wind is drunk alone.

Fenghua is a finger of quicksand, and old age is a period of time. After the leak, there was no word on the winter pillow, and tears flowed. The unbreakable mirror, the smoke and clouds between your fingers, the world for thousands of years, like a flash in the pan. For whom the oath was laid, for whom the face was dusty, and the temples were like frost.

Who put tenderness, bury all yesterday's flowers. Alone and melancholy. The past is still the same, and it is difficult to go back. After Rong Hua thanked him, it was a game, the mountains and rivers were forever silent, and the small city was forever half broken.

The decadent Tang Dynasty town, has passed away, who will reward the remnant face? A city ballad, singing can't be sung endlessly, how can it be worth the years. In an instant, the flowers fall to new branches, scattered all over the wild fragrance.

The red sandalwood is extinguished, and the people are gone. The flowers covered by the years bloomed, and all the white horses became blank. A few sighs and sorrows and joys of several lifetimes, passing through the passing years, dreaming back to the water's edge, watching the fireworks bloom out of the full moon.

The fog cleared, I woke up from my dream, and finally caught a glimpse of the truth, which was the silence after a thousand sails had passed. The independent river wind is sinking in the twilight, and if you want to look back, the rain is deserted.

The dust settles, the song ends, who is the world for her hands? Who embraced the beautiful woman and accompanied her to the end of the world?

At the two ends of life, we stand on each other's shores. Shallow and dark wounds, on the ink pen, negative dust. Fanghua Yanyu, after the prosperity ended, it was a dream.

Alone in the empty city, the prosperity is no longer there, and the gorgeous city ballads will eventually become scars on each other. The city song is a song, the flowers fall without a trace, and the time flows into a blank. Look at the story of the ruined town, the kite flies by, and the idiot talks alone.

One person, one city, a lifetime of distress.