Just find a few songs you like: just find a few songs you like: a piece of grass is blooming. We agreed not to hurt the past, but to say hello. Just enjoy the grass. So the rest are relics. Time is no longer pollen. Moths don't have to light candles and tears. Don't need sunshine. There are hungry horses ringing the bell. It belongs to the present, but it is a meadow. The rest is the same. The rest are township wells. -Does this tender and sweet night endured by the newlyweds belong to you? No, there is no moonlight, no flowers and no swans tonight. My fingers are covered with drizzle and grass, but even this rainy night is all yours? Yes, they are all mine. But don't think my love is full of plaques. I draw nutrition from the air and calcium from the sun. My moustache is like an arrow hair, but my love is as shy as the night. Ah, your friend who has been talking to me since midnight, please pass me your slender fingers. -Don't worry about the city. In spring, do you wave a handkerchief to let me leave or come back right away? No, it's nothing, because it's like a flower falling into the water, like dew on a flower ... only the shadow knows, only the wind energy understands, Only the butterfly that started with a sigh is still flying in the heart of the flower. Every depressed heart in ................................................................................................................. is in a piece of indifferent smoke, continuing to tell the green story. I believe that my audience-the sky and the water droplets splashing on the sea-will cover everything I have and the grave I can't find. I know that at that time, all the grass and flowers will gather around the dim light and gently kiss my sadness-nothing can make me stay except the purpose, even though there are roses and shade on the shore. There is a quiet harbor, and I am a boat not tied to it. Maybe one day, I'm tired of space travel. I woke up in the evening when the fire burned in May, and the sea woke up. People have reconnected with me. I will quietly return from infinity to infinity, and then leave quietly. Maybe it will be me one day. A ship that is not tied is a ship that I have no wisdom, no ropes and no sails. -Wrong Zheng Chouyu. I walked through the south of the Yangtze River and looked like a lotus in the season. The east wind is coming, and the catkins are not flying in March. Your heart is like a lonely little city. The streets in the bluestone are silent at night, and the spring curtain in March does not show your heart. It was a small window that covered me tightly. I am a passer-by, ....................................................................................................................................................................... Can my heart really turn to stone? The flood of Jin Juhua and Ligustrum lucidum characters along the river bank is inciting new betrayal. It is better to spend a miserable night on the shoulders of your lover than to exhibit on the cliff for a thousand years. -Chen Dongdong picked up a musical instrument in the dark. The sound of a horse sitting in the dark comes from the end, a horse in the rain. This instrument is old, shining like a red freckle on a horse's nose, and like the beginning of hibiscus at the end of a tree, several gray birds are startled. The horse in the rain is also destined to run out of my memory, like a musical instrument in its hand, like a hibiscus blooming at the end of a warm night porch. After a day of rain, I sat in the rain like a horse. The horse in the rain is also destined to run out of my memory. I took my musical instrument and played the song I wanted to sing. ..................................., I don't remember the name of a Czech film. That girl kissed you in the wet corner of the park on the cobblestone street in Wang Yin, and then faced the gun. It was still raining when you and your friends fell down on a tricycle. Next, I saw a drop of rain chasing another drop of rain on the wire and finally falling on the cobblestone road. I remember your lips moved, and no one saw them. Two other foreigners:-I like your silence in Nie Luda. I like your silence, as if you have disappeared and you are listening in the distance. It seems that your eyes have flown away, like a kiss, sealing your mouth. Just as everything fills my soul, you emerge from everything and fill my soul. You are like my soul, a butterfly of dreams. You are like the word melancholy. I like your silence, as if you had already left. You sound like you're lamenting, like a sad butterfly. You hear me from a distance, but my voice can't reach you: let me be silent in your silence. Let me talk to you through your silence. Your silence is as bright as a lamp and as simple as a ring. You are like the night, with loneliness and stars. Your silence is the silence of the stars, far away and bright. I like your silence, as if you have disappeared, distant and sad, as if you were dead. At that time, a word and a smile were enough. And I will feel happy, because it is not true. -how many years have passed, how many places have lost face, and some people have passed away. And I stood in the distance, and the night was so quiet. I finally confirmed that what I miss most is not the things that will eventually disappear, but the tranquility when birds sing.
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