Wind of history
Blow over 66 pages of calendar
That cold day
Start a life.
Deduct it in my eyes
Snowflakes are no longer white.
That cold winter
There is only one kind
Jin Ge's cry is like an iron horse.
Deprived this ancient country
Thick coat
Show one's scarred body
a drop of blood
Splash on my forehead
Burn one
A deep imprint
Time is like the north wind.
roared past
That day has passed.
But the shoulders of reality.
Can you stand it?
Those once boiling passions
The days go on.
On the back of the century
Gaze quietly
outside the window
Sunshine tenderness
Touch the earth
I just don't know that in its memory.
the other day
Is it like a sculpture?
Standing forever