1. The dry river bed is not grateful for its past.
Man is a newborn child, and his strength is the strength of growth.
The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Will you bear the burden of lameness?
Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes love to you.
My existence is a permanent magic for me, and this is life.
6, these micro (wind thoughts) are the rustling of leaves; They whispered happily in my heart.
7. You can't see yourself, all you see is your own shadow.
My wishes are fools, they shout across your song, God. Let me hear it.
9. Those who carry the lamp on their backs cast their shadows in front.
10, our rustling leaves have a voice to answer the wind and rain. Who are you, so silent? "I'm just a flower. "
1 1. What God wants us to repay him is the flowers he gave us, not the sun and the land.
12, Guangming is like a naked child, playing happily among the green leaves. It doesn't know that people will cheat.
O beauty, find yourself in love, not in the flattery of your mirror.
Moon, what are you waiting for? ""Salute to the sun, and I will give way to it.
The green trees come to my window like the yearning voice of the dumb earth.
16, God's own morning is also novel in his own view.
The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal,
It is the tears of the earth that keep her smile in bloom.
The boundless desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away.
If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you will also miss the stars.
2 1, the waterfall sings: "There are songs when you are free."