When it rains
I sat at the window of the rain curtain.
Miss you-my hometown
Gaze into the distance
cannot help doing
Walking in the rain
Thinking about you again
Return from the rainbow
Dusk time
I sit on the threshold of the night.
Miss you-my hometown
Complex and confusing
Watch the sunset.
Miss you again.
It rises from the distant mountains at dusk.
The spring breeze was blown away.
Summer flowering
Autumn leaves fall
Winter snow is pervasive.
Are you Wu Yan?
It comes in six colors.
It is a star.
This is the moon.
This is a happy little fish.
It's all scenery
It's my favorite hometown.
be homesick
be homesick
Sitting in the sunset
Bathe in the warmth
I also saw the withered tile house in my hometown.
I saw the wrinkled hands of the old farmer.
be homesick
westering sun
Loneliness in the sky
I also heard the chirping in my hometown of Ru Yan.
Heard the old farmer's disgusting cough.
be homesick
Jathyapple is like a hook.
Kihara is clear in autumn
I also know the tranquility of returning home late.
Know the sadness in the old farmer's eyes
hometown
Under the pale sky
Withered pear petals
Fall on both sides of the stream
A towering mountain peak
Echoed with silence
Pebbles on country roads
It contains the freshness of tomorrow morning.
at dusk
Stumbling figure
Dragged by the sunset
In that playful childhood
I had a tender dream.
Fly with good wishes
at present
That ancient hometown
By the dust of the years
Hide in the dark
Began to dissipate quietly
be homesick
No mouth
But it hurts to always bite the wanderer.
No heart
But always care about the journey of the wanderer.
Never thought about it
But it always gives philosophical enlightenment to vagrants.
No hands
But always pull the wanderer tightly.
Put wandering thoughts
Turn into plumes of smoke in distant places
Let it float above the city.
Smelled familiar when I was a child.
Put wandering thoughts
A line that extends into an infinite kite.
Even if you are far away.
Don't let go.
The vagrant's will won't do anything.
Used for transfer
The wanderer heard the night.
Your voice calling his birth name.
Mother used her warm chest and strong arms.
Hold the tramp in your arms.
Let the wanderer miss it all the time
That kind of unspeakable happiness.
Are the peaches in those villages pink?
Are those spring flowers blooming by the roadside?
Golden wheat waves
Is it moving again?
Wanderers are always in the corner of the city at night.
Dreamed about it
Those familiar scenes
At night
In a dream
Wanderers often dream about themselves.
weep
In the city.
In a faraway place
Wanderers miss their hometown.
It never breaks.
Even for a second.