In my dream, I dreamed that
I sat on the white clouds.
Take me to the vast sky.
I dreamed that the clear dew washed away all my troubles.
Childhood is a blank sheet of paper.
Can draw our most simple and clumsy yearning.
You can write about our carefree freedom
You can write down the beauty of this world.
Childhood is the most beautiful song.
Because you can sing the truest voice inside.
Let childhood stay in the brightest place in my heart!
That dream last night,
Take me back to my childhood home.
I lay on the windowsill again,
Look at the drizzle like fireworks in March.
Nobody's home,
I climbed the fence and waited for the morning glory to blow the horn.
Remember: lonely little yellow duck in the river in front of the door,
And that little frog that scared me.
The smell of childhood,
Smells like oolong tea in my grandfather's pot.
The story of childhood is as fresh as grandma's white hair on her temples.
Childhood was a dream last night,
Swaying like an iris in the water.
Wawu is meticulous and natural.
Standing in the rhymes of the 1980s arouses memories.
The pulley of the years
Cornice icing
Tear the worn-out gown in the sun.
Who vaguely sang the song of Sophora japonica rice cake?
I saw my childhood climb the stone steps.
Rolling around and laughing.
The haystack lost its fruit.
The year of supply is a little yellow.
Bare and messy feet on the ridge tell a story.
The shepherd's flute stopped ringing.
There are several kites.
Are you awake? Sleep soundly on mother's lap.
The moon drifted carelessly across the haystack.
Meet an autumn in my dream
A garden full of sweets.
I dreamed last night.
Take me back to my childhood home.
I lay on the windowsill again.
Watch the March fireworks in the drizzle
Nobody's home.
I climbed the fence and waited for the morning glory to blow the horn.
Remember: there is only a lonely little yellow duck in the river in front of the door.
And the little frog that scared me.
The taste of childhood
Aromatic outer pot oolong tea
Childhood story, fresh grandma with white hair on her temples.
Last night's childhood dream
Iris vacillata
The passing of childhood,
Like the wind,
Just,
The image of a child at that time,
No longer the image of childhood,
Just,
At that time, children smiled at childhood memories.
I have been deeply impressed by my childhood.
Wave your hand,
Say goodbye to childhood and remember the word childhood.