The first time I smelled your scent that year, I was drunk for a whole season.
Many short stories about bumper harvests have been boiled into a bowl of spirits by time.
After centuries of unbridled fragrance, it is still talked about by the world.
Those petals flying all over the sky are the feelings flying in my hands.
Your backpack is full of youth.
Walk in, I can't walk in the season.
I poured out all the stories about you from my bag.
Clear as water, it smells like wine.
I couldn't help taking a sip and getting drunk.
Indulge in the blooming flowers
2. Youth
All endings have been written, and all tears have set out.
But I suddenly forgot how it started, in that ancient summer day when I never came back.
No matter how I pursue it, young you just pass by like a cloud.
And your smiling face is extremely shallow and gradually disappears into the haze after sunset.
Then I opened the yellow title page, and fate bound it badly.
I watched it over and over again, tears filled my eyes, but I have to admit it.
Youth is a book that is too hasty, on the night of forty-five.
Suddenly I remembered her young eyes and the summer when she was sixteen.
Walking slowly towards him from the hillside, the sunshine outside the forest is dazzling.
And her skirt is so white, I still remember the tea trees all over the mountain.
The sky is full of clouds and cicadas are full of ears.
In the silent forest, I love tonight.
Looking back at the mountain road when we came, we found that our days have passed.
In a completely different way, it came and went.
A vision that was planned so enthusiastically, a blueprint that was drawn so carefully and accurately.
Once so eager for its youth, but always.
Never been here.
Step 3 write to young people
If I have to recall, those wonderful past.
Why can years only have one direction?
Just like bauhinia, it has a short fragrance.
There are more memories than yesterday's sunshine.
When I deeply understand that I can't grasp the skirts of time.
There is nothing to squander, only empty bags.
Please let me turn back after the rainy season under the umbrella.
Take a look at the ferry of youth, that young face.
4. "Little Youth Fragment"
If life is a poem, then youth is a poem in a poem.
There is poetry in poetry, and implication is the essence of poetry.
Yes, youth is a poetic season, and youth is the most classic poem.
Youth is beautiful and colorful.
Youth left tears and laughter, happiness and emotion.
Youth is a complex and enduring poem, leaving a page of deepest memories for life.
I don't want to say anything more about youth.
I just want to say that in the season of poetry, everyone is a poet and everyone should write down this wonderful time in the language of poetry.
At this point, I believe I have done it, although perhaps the language of the poems I wrote in class is quite boring or green.
I hope everyone will leave more true feelings and sincere words on the youth guest book.
5. Ode to Youth
People will waste their youth, but it will fade easily.
Those who squander their youth will eventually be abandoned.
Youth is really limited, and times have changed.
Youth can't stay, and time is like water.
Everything goes back and forth at a flick of a finger, even if there is no return.
Let the limited youth time be full of poetic and romantic pictures.
Youth is strange, exciting and full of strength.
Full of ambition for knowledge and struggle, some things gradually fade away.
You know it exists, but you have forgotten how it exists.