"Every time I wander alone, I am strong, and every time I get hurt, I don't cry …" This is my favorite song "Invisible Wings".
I remember it was grade one, and I just went to primary school. My classmates, courses and teachers are all strangers to me. In class, I didn't answer the question, but looked at the teacher with frightened eyes. After class, I didn't chat and play games with my classmates, but sat in my seat alone. Finally, the teacher told my mother about it. My mother thought about it for a day and a night, and finally came up with a coup. That day, she asked me to listen to music. "Every time I am strong in loneliness, I don't cry even if I am injured. I know that I have always had a pair of invisible wings to take me to despair. " "Listen!" My eyes are full of joy. My mother asked, "Do you like this song?" "Of course, she is such a strong person." "So, you have to be such a strong person, okay?" At this moment, I seem to understand my mother's intention. At that time, tears were swirling in my eyes, which was really touching. So I have made great progress. Teachers and classmates say I look like a different person. Since then, whenever I encounter setbacks, I can't help but think of this song.
I like the song Invisible Wings, because it makes me more confident and stronger. Lu Shuyi, the instructor of Giant Geology Branch of Giant School, commented: "I am always strong in loneliness, even if I am injured, I don't cry every time ..." The familiar singer began her story. It was the song Invisible Wings that taught her to be strong and inspired her to forge ahead, so she was a loyal listener of this song.
2. Write a composition on the topic of one of my favorite poems. I saw a very good one on the Internet. See if you can use it.
There is a ray of green in the old bottle.
There is a hint of red in the quiet stove.
There is a feeling of snow in the dusk outside.
How about a glass of wine inside? ?
This is my favorite poem, like a Yu Pei that has been worn for many years. The more you play, the more you like it.
It is said that this is just a note by Bai Juyi. A note inviting neighbors and friends over for a drink.
Literati are literati, and articles painstakingly made may not necessarily become excellent works. Twenty words at hand will become magical products.
Green ant wine is a kind of rice wine, the color is green, and there is a layer of rice grains floating like ants. The newer the better, usually drink it while it is hot. Egoism, this wine is not high, it may be slightly sweet and fragrant. I'm sorry I haven't had it.
There is a touch of red in the quiet stove. Maybe I haven't seen him since the 1990s. Before the liquefied gas era, every household had a coal stove. Warm is the word "red mud", while yellow and black are vulgar. But also "small". A warmth jumps from the paper. It must be used for scalding wine, and maybe playing barbecue. I don't know. The big stove was unbearable and turned into a boiler. Sitting by the boiler drinking, steaming, but lacking elegance.
The most wonderful thing is "there is a feeling of snow in the dusk outside". They must not live far away, and it's going to snow. It's not down yet, it's coming down soon, it's not too late! Come here quickly! In fact, it is the author's alcoholism, boredom and thirst. But you are all literate, so don't be impatient! He can't write: "Good wine, full meal, stupid person, come quickly." That's unseemly.
So, the author said slowly and methodically, "How about a glass of wine inside? ? "No word is a modal particle, which has no meaning. But it costs 1000 yuan to use it here. The tone, attitude and expression of that kind of literati are all here. Comparable to Cao Mengde's "heroes in the world, only the monarch and Cao Er!" The word "ear".
"A cup" is a function word, I think. How can I just have one drink? It snowed heavily and it got dark. Drink it! Keep drinking!
I think that after receiving this note, the invited "Liu Nineteen" couldn't help coming. Have to come, even dare not come. You have to come quickly, you can't delay. If we delay, the snow will fall and the wine will get old. You have to get drunk when you come. Not if you're not drunk. If you don't get drunk, you have failed this altar of green ant wine. There are red-stirred, alcoholic owners in the quiet stove, and most importantly, this poem.
After several dreams, how I wish I were that "Liu Nineteen"! If I were the old Liu, I would get drunk-"write me such a good poem!" " "
Drunk and willing! For that poem.
By the way, the title of this poem is a suggestion for my friend Liu.
Write a composition on the topic of my favorite poem. My favorite poem is also urgent. 5. I like reading books since I was a child, such as Education of Love, La Traviata and Four Great Classical Novels. I just want to see everything anyway. My three bookcases are all full.
Among them, I like reading ancient poems best, and "Xing" is my favorite one. In autumn, the mountains are covered with red leaves, and the red leaves are covered with fields and hillsides.
Clusters of red leaves on the branches of maple trees are like clouds of fire. The mountain road twists and turns and stretches into the distance.
Several families can be faintly seen on the mountain. They stood there, and every family was smoking. "Dangdang Dangdang" There was a rush of hooves in the distance.
After a while, I saw a carriage coming here, and the famous poet Du Mu sat on it. Du Mu was attracted by the beautiful scenery. When he got off the bus, he couldn't help admiring the vibrant scene: it was so beautiful.
Du Mu was fascinated by it, and even reached the state of selflessness. At this time, it seems that there is no time, no one, and it is a single world. Finally, the poet couldn't help reciting this poem: in the distance, the stone path of the cold mountain is oblique, and there are people in the depths of the white clouds.
Stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February flowers. Finally, he couldn't restrain his mood and walked into the maple grove excitedly. The poet wore a white dress, and the red of the maple tree matched the white of the dress. This beautiful red leaf is simply more beautiful than the colorful red flowers in February.
I like poetry because it can make us enjoy beauty. When I was in kindergarten, I learned many ancient poems, such as Meng Jiao's Ode to a Wanderer and He's My Hometown Book ... Among them, my favorite ancient poem was Li Shen's sympathy for farmers.
At noon in summer, the sun is very hot, farmers are still working, and beads are dripping into the soil. Who knows that every grain of Chinese food is hard?
Every time I see this ancient poem, I seem to see a farmer's uncle hoeing the ground at noon in the scorching sun. The hoe is getting heavier and heavier, and the farmer's uncle is getting tired. Sweat ran down his face, soaked his clothes and dripped to the ground. What a difficult picture! It is precisely because of the hard work of farmers' uncles that we can eat so many rich foods every day, including delicious rice, delicious steamed bread and all kinds of fruits and vegetables ... but my mother told me that there are still many people in the world who can't eat because of disasters, wars and other reasons. They endured hunger and pain, and some people starved to death. How tragic! Compared with them, how happy our life is! But some children don't cherish this hard-won luck. When they eat, they waste food and pick and choose, and rice grains fall everywhere. Some children even secretly dump food, alas! Really wrong! Here, I want to say loudly to all the children: "Please cherish the food!" " "My favorite ancient poems have been read countless times since childhood. Many people like to use poetry to express their feelings, wishes, thoughts of their loved ones and parting from their friends.
Among the poems I have read, the most impressive one is Meng Jiao's Ode to a Wanderer: "The thread in the hands of a loving mother makes clothes for wayward children." . Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged.
But how much love does this inch of grass have? Make three spring scenery. In the poem, the author embodies the infinite love of a great mother, who thinks she is loving, simple and great.
Now, we take care of our mothers for granted. We can't understand their good intentions and sometimes even yell at them, but as mothers, they still care and love their children silently. They have no regrets about what their children have done.
I remember that in the "Wenchuan Earthquake" in May 12, a mother leaned against the collapsed building in the ruins and protected her 3-4-month-old child under her. Because of the mother's protection, the child fell asleep unharmed and quietly. When the ambulance personnel untied the quilt covering the child, they found a mobile phone with a sentence written on the screen: Dear baby, if you are still alive, you must remember my love for you.
Although this mother's great achievements are household names, does anyone who knows them feel anything? Mothers can give up their lives for their children, as mothers all over the world do. When I was sick, my mother stayed up all night, poured me water and stayed by the bed. Under the care of maternal love, she recovered quickly.
When I woke up, I was moved to tears when I saw my mother not sleeping by the bed all night. In retrospect, when I failed in the exam, my mother didn't scold me, but gave me the correct answer to the wrong question. When I held the written report card in my hand, she smiled, very pleased and happier than me.
Looking back on these years, my mother accompanied me every day. No matter what the weather is like, she always holds my hand; No matter what happens, she always teaches me everything after being frustrated; No matter how deep the night is, how deep the night is, how deep the night is, how deep the night is, how deep the night is, she always spends it with me.
..... Once, I hated my mother. Why are you so cruel? Why don't you hug me in the mud? Why didn't you teach me how to deal with setbacks before? Why are you so persistent and don't advise me to give up silently instead of taking a rest ... Now, I don't hate my mother, but thank her. She never holds me forward because she wants me to learn to face ups and downs; Never depressed, money taught me to deal with it, because it wanted me to appreciate life; Never ask me to give up, but teach me to persist in silence.
Mom, thank you! Thank you for teaching me a lot; Thank you/kloc-walk with me every day for 0/5 years ... but how much love does this inch of grass have? Reported three spring scenery. My favorite poem 2. China is a country of poetry.
Since ancient times, countless great poets have emerged in China: Qu Yuan, Li Bai, Du Fu and Bai Juyi ... These resounding names have long been deeply engraved on the historical monument of poetry. Their works have been told by later generations through the ages.
My favorite is Yu Qian's Poem of Lime. This poem was written by Yu Qian, a famous minister and national hero in Ming Dynasty.
The full text of the poem is like this: a thousand hammers cut out a deep mountain, and the fire burned like crazy. Broken bones and powder are everywhere.
4. Write a 500-word favorite poem with the topic "My favorite poem".
In recent days, I feel very depressed, and it is difficult to find a suitable reason to think about it. In my spare time, it suddenly occurred to me: "What is reading for?" Yes, no one has asked for it for ten years. Why? Who can give a suitable answer? This reminds me of Huang Tingjian, specifically his poem "Send a few times to the Yellow River", and more specifically a poem: If you want to think white, you will cry for vines across the stream.
People have only lived in the world for a few decades, and learning takes up almost a quarter of your time. Next you have to find a job, make money, get married and support your family. By the time your next generation can stand on its own feet, you will already be a dusty old man. If the next generation is filial, you will still be blessed, otherwise, you will want to sue everyone and cry without tears!
In today's society, knowledge is updated quickly, access to information is very convenient, and reading is not difficult.
Because of this, the answers are flying all over the sky. As soon as the Internet opens, Baidu searches. By the way, is it convenient, not to mention how cool?
But how many people study for the sake of learning? Is it difficult to study?
In ancient times, some people said that they became great officials for fame and fortune, but people like Tao Yuanming, Xie Lingyun and Li Bai eventually became so-called hermits. Is this the purpose of reading?
What is reading for in today's society? To put it bluntly, it is for a better life. But when I think of the current financial crisis, the number of laid-off workers and the number of job seekers, is it panic in my heart? Thinking about the future after we study and leave the society, I have no bottom in my heart.
So I silently set a goal for myself, and I must do something in the future, be a scientist, an inventor or something.
Study hard, for yourself, for your family and for your country.
Learning is difficult, I am not afraid, my head is white, and I have no complaints.
I want to have a good day tomorrow, and work hard again.
I want to change for my favorite poem. Thank you, Mr. Huang.
5. Write a 250-word composition "My favorite poem" on the topic of my favorite poem. I like Wen Tianxiang's promise that "whoever has not died in life since ancient times must have a pure heart and shine in history"; I love Li Bai's heroic "flying down three thousands of feet, I suspect that the Milky Way has fallen for a few days"; My Rainbow Wei's feeling of "being in a foreign land, I miss my relatives twice every festive season".
However, I prefer the poem "A drop of water can penetrate a stone, and everything will be settled naturally", which influenced my childhood. Looking around, how carefree childhood is! But things that I still can't get over have been surging in my heart ... I was 9 years old that year, and my mother often urged me on my study.
"Go to review after dinner!" "I bought you an exercise book to do at the weekend!" "Stop watching TV and preview tomorrow's class!" This nagging makes me both sweet and irritable. Two semesters have passed, and I can't stand this kind of earnest persuasion, and my grades began to plummet.
I only got 65 points in an exam. After returning home, my mother scolded me: "You only play all day, and now you get such a small score." Is this test so difficult? " But I didn't listen at all, because I didn't like studying. It seems that one ear goes in and the other goes out, but I still have to live a "bitter" life.
When everyone is playing, I absently do various exercises; When everyone fell asleep, I rolled into the ocean of problems and casually wrote "X", "100" and "25" ... Once, my mother bought me an ancient poem and told me to finish it in one day, otherwise I was not allowed to go out to play. Although my grades are not good, I am a little interested in reading.
So, I took the book and read it. For the difficult part, I will skip it directly and look at the easy part casually.
But when I turned to page 57, I circled a sentence in red font, which attracted me very much. After reading it, it turned out to be a poem: a drop of water can penetrate a stone, and everything will follow. After reading this poem, I suddenly woke up ... from then on, I chased others in the study; Try to do housework at home; In society, many things are positive.
Because I understand that anything can be successful as long as you work hard. This sentence is still in my mind. No matter what I forget, I will never forget this inspiring sentence.
6. Write an 800-word composition on the topic of "My favorite poem" (give me the whole poem, it will rain outside the window at night if you don't read it.
Listening to the distant and near rain, I sat quietly in the soft light, making my figure sink deeper and deeper in the rainy night with the gesture of spring bud germination, and making my dream drift farther and farther in the poetic realm ... My eyes are like slender grass leaves, and poetry is like crystal dew, rolling on the leaves. Then, they rolled into my heart one by one, leaving my heart empty and clear.
I like me who reads poetry, because I am the quietest. The troubles and trifles in the world are gone, and there is no longer any shadow in my heart.
Secular disputes and grievances, gains and losses in vanity fair, honor and disgrace are all gone. I read poetry because I think it is closest to my heart.
Only when I read poetry can I truly feel that I am breathing with the world. Everything in the world covers me with great tenderness and kindness, and any breeze blowing from poetry can soothe my soul wrinkled by the worries of the world.
On the night of reading poetry, the moonlight is like water. My tired heart perches between the lines of the poem.
Poetry is dancing in the moonlight. Now that the dust has settled, I feel my body as light as a fallen leaf and as light as a feather.
I know that poetry has taken away my heavy body, leaving only the good taste of life. In cold days, I rely on poetry to keep warm and dream.
Just a few lines of text is really amazing. Just for a moment, you can float my dream like a hibiscus out of water.
In the quiet night, looking at poetry, my dusty heart is often washed. As a result, I seemed to wake up from a deep hibernation, and was excited by lightning, rushing down like a waterfall.
On the night of reading poetry, dreams are like twinkling stars in the night sky. My heart dances in poetry.
The wind blows from distant history. When I sing softly, those sentences, such as notes, such as pearls, unconsciously fall from my lips.
Reminds me of a sweet song in my heart. When reading poetry, I don't smoke like some people and wrap myself in clouds and fog.
I turned a page gently. After turning the pages gently, I made a cup of black tea in the bookcase. The tea is strong, and the poetry in my heart is strong. I took a sip gently. It was thick and warm, and it tasted different. The world is getting busier and busier. I don't know how many people, like me, escaped from the world of mortals, a cup of green tea and a book of poems, and stayed away from the fatigue, noise and tranquility of the city night after night. Many years ago, I chose words because poetry was the only way for my heart to communicate with the world.
Feel life in reading and writing poems, and pursue life. On the night of reading poetry, I seem to see the beautiful you smiling at me, the stars and the moon are silent, and I feel my heart talking to you quietly.
The vast night sky is as deep as a wise man's forehead, and I can't get close to it. I can only rely on reading, and my heart is full of piety and sacredness ... The night of reading poetry is warm and romantic. I like reading poems late at night, and it's also romantic to walk with poems in the journey of life ... 2. Walking with poems in spring, often no boat can take people as far as a book, and no horse can jump like a page of poems. The poorest people in this passage can walk. What a thrifty car, carrying people's souls. This is a poem once written by American woman writer Dickinson.
I like it very much. So if someone asks me: Why do you want to read poetry? My answer is simple: "Poetry takes us far away"! I know that poetry has been marginalized in contemporary times.
Even myself, it seems that I haven't read a new poem sincerely for a long time. But I never dare to despise poetry, and I will always be in awe of poetry.
Poetry is the highest art in language arts. There is a vast and boundless world in the poem, and there is a world where Xia Wei is steamed by clouds.
In a few words, she can bring people into a beautiful realm, or break through the ground, or sound lingering. Poetry is an elegant flower and a wonderful spirit! Heidegger once said that people should live poetically on the earth.
What a wonderful call! People's need for poetry has nothing to do with matter, but with people's spirit, with people's nature and relationship, and with people's life. Poetry is the container of human mind.
Why do people live? What is the point of living? These are questions that philosophy, literature and especially poetry want to explore. Some people don't want to explore these problems, but those who care about life itself can't avoid it, and avoidance can only produce greater hesitation and pain.
Sooner or later. Reading poetry is also very beneficial to one's growth.
Bacon said: "History lessons make people wise, and poetry makes people wise." I often meet people who despise poetry and only laugh at themselves.
This certainly seems a bit arrogant. However, whenever my mind jumps with poems that others seem obscure, I am really happy like a child.
This is probably difficult for people who don't read poetry to understand. Therefore, a person may not have to read poetry all his life, but if he doesn't read a little when he is young, I'm afraid it will be difficult to have a thick life and the whole person may lose a little spirituality.
What's more, youth itself is a poem. How can we not love youth? So I very much hope that students can read more poems while they are young. Besides "Spring Stars" and "Birds", we should further broaden our horizons.
Last time, we asked you to recommend your favorite poem. Judging from your recommendation, there are indeed many poems worthy of our careful taste. I have excerpted some modern poems here. If there is a cool breeze in the evening, you walk quietly in the square in the city center, or have the opportunity to get on the train alone and look bored at the cement forest passing by the window. Don't forget, these poems can walk with our hearts.
Please write a short essay of about 500 words on the topic of "My favorite poem". China is a country of poetry. Poetry has a long history, famous artists come forth in large numbers, and numerous works by famous artists are spectacular in Chinese civilization. Poetry expresses the author's feelings with its concise language and beautiful words.
Opening the floodgate of memory, I found my favorite poem. That's the work of Du Mu, a poet in the Tang Dynasty-Mountain Walking. The four lines in the poem read: "The stone path in the cold mountain is far away, and there are people in the depths of the white clouds. Stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February. "
This poem describes the beautiful scenery that the poet saw when he walked in the mountains in late autumn. The poet skillfully captured several scenery he saw on his way up the mountain: from a distance, it was a winding mountain road paved with rocks. When he reached the top of the mountain, he looked at the place surrounded by white clouds in the mountain, and several families appeared faintly. The maple leaves around him were like fire, which was even more beautiful, far better than the flowers in early spring and February. Here, there are white clouds, red leaves and bright colors; Mountain roads, maple forests and people's homes are harmonious and warm; Some poets stopped to watch the night view of Fenglin because of their love, which made the picture more affectionate. Writing autumn scenery, the whole poem has no sad and desolate atmosphere. Especially the last sentence, comparing maple leaves with flowers is very novel. The flowers in February are beautiful and charming, but when the spring breeze blows and the spring rain suddenly rises, they fall into the mud and go with the running water. But the maple leaves turned red in the struggle with autumn wind, autumn rain and autumn frost, showing great vitality. This is why the poet especially likes the maple grove. It is also the charm of this poem that has been passed down through the ages and is widely known.
Walking in the garden of ancient poems, we can enjoy all kinds of ancient poems. Farewell, spring, summer, autumn and winter, romantic scenery and scenic spots in ancient poems are all the legacy left by ancient poets to our descendants and the treasures of the Chinese nation.
8. Write a 600-word argumentative essay on the topic of "My favorite poem": "There is a ray of green in the old bottle and a trace of red in the quiet stove. It feels like snow outside at dusk. How about a glass of wine inside? ? "It's probably like this: the newly brewed wine is green and the foam is as small as ants. Green wine is being heated on a small red mud stove, and the smell of wine wafts warmly in the room. It's getting late, sleepy and snowing heavily. Friend.-Come on, have a drink?
Very warm mood, moved to tears, like for no reason. Especially in this winter evening, I really want to ask you, is it snowing there?
This is a poem by Bai Juyi, but I don't remember its name.
"There is a ray of green in the old bottle and a trace of red in the quiet stove. It feels like snow outside at dusk. How about a glass of wine inside? ? "
Very good!
Flowering tree
How to let you meet me
In my best moment, for this.
I prayed in front of the Buddha for 500 years.
Begging him to let us have a dusty relationship.
Then the Buddha turned me into a tree.
Follow the path you may take.
In the blooming flowers, I wait in the sun.
Every flower carries my previous hopes.
Please listen carefully when you come near.
The trembling leaves are my passion for waiting,
When you walked under the tree, you didn't notice me.
On the ground behind you
Friend, that's not a petal.
It is my withered heart
Helen,
I appreciate your beauty,
Just like the boats in Sydney in the past,
Floating gently on the fragrant sea.
Tired vagabond,
Turn the rudder and sail to the other side of my hometown.
Experienced at sea,
Accustomed to wandering the world.
Helen,
Your beautiful face,
Blue and purple hair.
Your fairy demeanor.
I'm sure.
Glory belongs to Greece,
Greatness belongs to Rome
Does a word count?
The independent bridge is full of sleeves, and Lin Ping returns to the new moon.
Every time I pass by the library, I can see the tall phoenix tree, and I think of another sentence:
Smoky forest, sad cold mountain area.
Another sentence:
The distant mountains cry purple. ...
I wonder what kind of inspiration hit the poet's heart.
Spring is in the peach blossom, and the peach blossom is dancing.
Spring is in the bodhisattva, and compassion is tireless.
The left hand leans against the stone, and the right hand bends the finger.
In the second and third, it bends and stretches, and there is no life.
If seeking truth from life is the death penalty.
Where are the living sentences?
Spring is in the peach blossom, and the peach blossom is dancing.
Hua Jie said that laws are all over the Ganges.
When you hear it, you will see the wave of love.
This is a poem that Jane could write in the Tang Dynasty. I don't know why I like it so much. Maybe I like metaphysical poetry.
But the evaluation of later generations is simple: save a lot, be quick, and speak like a mirror.
9. Who can write a composition with a poem I like? I am often moved by my friends' poems and songs and by beautiful and sincere words. Wind, flowers, snow, moon, bamboo flute and Yu Di, all the most perfect things in the world are so far away from real life. And many things happened around you, you can forget, you can also give up all kinds of troubles and hardships, but you can't forget that nostalgia. Especially the memory of that moonlit night. When you embark on a wandering journey, you can raise the sail of love and set sail in the ocean of mind and the storm of life. What melody should echo in your ear, what memory should be awakened quietly, but the legend of eternal love has performed the most bitter interpretation in the Grand View Garden. When life is blowing in the wind, nothing can surpass this ruthlessness and tragic.
Gradually, I am used to thinking in rainy and windy days, describing my own dribs and drabs in words, encouraging myself in words, and bringing myself a little surprise and pride in words. I am glad that under this sky, I am still pure and sincere, and nothing can extinguish the enthusiasm of youth and break the wings of hope. Although there will be loneliness and loneliness in lost days, as I said, it is also a kind of sadness, which can be the same.
Facing the watery moonlight, the poet Li Qingzhao's A Piece of Plum has a lingering fragrance of red lotus root. Gently untie Luo Shang and go to Lan alone. Who sent the brocade book? The word goose returns, and the moon is full of the west building. Flowers from Shui Piao to water, one kind of lovesickness, two places of leisure. There is no way to eliminate this situation, only frown and mind. This heart sound, like yesterday's oratorio, clearly echoes in the ear, as if telling the bitterness in the heart. On a moonlit night, I miss you faintly. Can you not think of Su Shi's "Water Tune Song Tou", "I wish people a long time and a thousand miles of beauty"? On the night of Mid-Autumn Festival, it is difficult to achieve the artistic conception of these two sentences by connecting all the sighs in series. All people are enjoying the beauty of the moonlit night. Is this habit unique to me?
Sorrow is like water, and water is like sorrow. The true feelings of Li Yu, the king of national subjugation, shouted: "How much sorrow can you have, just like a river flowing eastward." If you live and work in peace and contentment like a civilian, how can there be such a thing? Maybe this is its real price. Nothing is not worth it. Sometimes, assuming that it seems redundant or far-fetched, the water still flows eastward, and sorrow is equally immortal. How many sleepless nights, but let them go with the water, if the water is me, I will cry, if I am clean water, I will not look back. Is this kind of worry unique to him?
I don't want to go back to the lost Millennium, but I inadvertently recall their worries and appreciate my emotions. Although I don't understand the changes in history, more precisely, I don't want to look for the breath left over. I really want to write something with my heart. I can use words to make you feel beautiful and my existence. I have never thought about who should deliberately remember anything, or remember anything. I never want to be above you, but I can give the world a real me. Looking forward to family harmony and world peace. Many times, simplicity is the most precious thing of human beings, and perhaps because of this, it is also the fastest to slip away. Accustomed to such generosity, in my own sky, night is all my missing, missing is all my love, and love is all my life!
Don't worry, my mood can't be answered, my debt is deep, my tears fall day and night, and my heart is torn by tears. Whose fault is Xiang Tiange?