Chang'e to the moon

Spreading on the ground, with the chanting of the blue sea and the blue sky, the moon should sing with the poet's shallow Sanskrit, like a solitary smoke, inadvertently flowing the brilliance into the world.

The wind blows rustlingly, reflecting the cold smoke and congealing the moon, the starry sky, moaning softly in the moon’s gloom, sweeping the mist in a leisurely manner, setting off clear water splashes, like clear lotus silt out of the mud but not stained, although it is impossible It has blown out the long lead, but the millennium has been stunned, and the truth has been clarified. What the wind sees is always the misty mist after the clouds are lifted.

Fallen leaves are whirling, the cold is in the sky, and the sprinkled silver light shines on the once clear leaves. I wandered for a while for no reason, lightly swaying the old leaves, and my heart trembled slightly: Xiaoyao's life, bathed in spring and summer scenery, now, the leaves have returned to their roots. The pile of leaves is even more faint in the moonlight, knowing that everything is alive, so he held up his hands full of withered yellow, raised them, let them go, Ye Feiwu. I know that when I look for it in the future, I will find it thousands of times, but it will be scattered into mud and dust, only clear.

The spring water flows long, the ethereal sound is like smoke, quiet and tranquil, the moon is round, reflected on the clear spring, like a jade plate, the gentle wind blows, if the jade wheel is gradually broken, only the residual silver of the stars remains in the spring , Quiet like a scroll of old days, simple and gorgeous, graceful and pure, meticulously crafted without any modification, Yiquanyue, broken Qiongyao.

Yue Jingxuan, after hundreds of millions of years, has looked down upon the reincarnation of the world long ago, and the years of quietness cannot move her. The moon hangs quietly, the leaves are disturbed, and the breeze is refreshing. It is so transparent now, there is nothing to regret. Yue Jingxuan, standing in the high clouds, life, old age, sickness and death have nothing to do with it, only wishing for safety. Yue Jingxuan, looking at the world indifferently and ruthlessly, regardless of the rain and wind, enjoying the tranquility of one's own detachment, knowing it, knowing it, only those three glasses of light wine, you can stay with Xiaoyao.

Postscript: Tianliu, Suyue, Qingguang, Lishan, mountains and rivers, with no choice in heart, watching the water, moon and flowers, all three real meanings of the sky, looking at the sky, sighing with the pen, and asking for the clear breeze: Tonight, is the Lord of Guanghan Palace ?