Independent cold autumn, Xiangjiang River north, Orange Island. You see the mountains and plains, and the layers of forests are all dyed; The river is full of water, and hundreds of people compete for the flow. The eagle hits the sky, the fish is shallow,
All kinds of frost fight for freedom. Lonely, ask the world who is in charge of ups and downs, take hundreds of couples to travel and recall the past years. Just a classmate and a teenager, in the prime of life.
Hair; Scholar spirit, Fang Qiu. Pointing out the maze, inspiring words, the dirt in Wan Huhou that year. Remember, when the midstream hit the water, the waves stopped the speedboat!
2 Rain Lane-Dai Wangshu
Holding an oil-paper umbrella, a person lingers in a long, lonely rain lane, hoping to meet a girl as sad as lilac. She has a job.
Fragrant colors, the fragrance of cloves, the sadness of cloves, the sadness in the rain, and the hesitation of sadness; She lingered in this lonely rain lane and persisted.
Oil-paper umbrella, like me, is silently sad, indifferent, sad and melancholy. She approached silently and breathed a sigh of relief.
She floated like a dream, dreamlike, sad and confused. Like a lilac field in a dream, this girl floats by me; She left silently, far away.
Finally, we reached the ruined fence and crossed the rainy path. In the elegy of the rain, her color faded, and her fragrance dispersed and dissipated, even like her sigh.
Eyes, lavender melancholy. Holding an oil-paper umbrella, a person lingers in a long, lonely rain lane, hoping to float across a clove-like knot.
A sad girl.