The wind is rustling and it is raining. Dead trees cry and leaves float, and lonely birds let the rain and wind.
In the autumn of Wan Li, in my mind, I didn't see Iraqis climbing stairs, so why was Mo Wen worried?
Remember the past, the teacher of the future, it is difficult for a beautiful woman to stay together when she is gone, and it is difficult to take back what she has done.
The wind is rustling and it is raining. Dead trees cry and leaves float, and lonely birds let the rain and wind.
Foggy, smoky. Yin and yang are separated by smoke, and tears flow like a spring.
We wait for centrifugation, half sharp, half crazy, if we forget, if we go.
Come out with no regrets, half rain, half desolation, no chapters, no length.
Qionghua blue sea, half stupid and half hate, half sad bamboo pulp, bamboo brew.
The moon invites the stars to dance, half brewing, half caring, not elaborating, not thinking.