150-word prose poems are as urgent as Ji Bolun's group songs! ! ! !

Song of the wind

Wind, the wind running in space!

No matter what words I use to praise you, I can't keep up with your galloping speed, your freedom and your changes.

I marvel at your bravery and lightness. You have traveled all over the world in an instant, and you have traveled all over the boundless ocean. Even Ferrari and satellites can't keep up with your speed. When you are quiet, gently rub the leaves and walk in the most common and narrow place.

Wind! You scream, you howl. That's your own voice. You slip past us and whistle softly. That's your other voice.

Wind! Run as hard as you can Embrace life freely!

Wind! In the context of the forest, you whisper, you say, how much I love life!

Wind! In the vast desert, you raised your arms and shouted, you said, I want to eliminate all ugliness and ignorance!

Wind! In the dark winter night, you cried in a low voice, and you said, I want to be wronged by the unfairness in this world and leave the last warmth to the weak!

Wind! In the sultry summer, you sing, you say, I want to sing a happy song for busy people!

I wish I were the wind!