After counting to nine, what I was thinking about was the swallow, starting its journey in the distance. Can you catch a glimpse of warmth in the afternoon wind? The buds of the trees must have heard the call of the cuckoo. Look, someone has reminded the kite of its mission to fly again after dormant all winter.
I always thought that on a moonlit night, as long as I fell into deep sleep, I would see you, wearing a purple flower cheongsam, reciting poems to me. However, I always had no dreams all night.
Reach out your hands and stretch out the sunshine, and the shadows will overlap and create warmth. The wind will blow away and roar, and it will be soft and full of freshness. The footsteps will be cheerful. The calendar will tear off the last few pages. Firecrackers will celebrate peace and prosperity. The door to spring.