Time is a ruthless knife. It carves the young children into the appearance of youth, but in the end it is full of vicissitudes of life on my body. I never thought that one day, I would I can’t imagine your appearance. You have always been a brand in my heart, but I left without any prelude. It was so quiet, as quiet as having experienced an eternity, and you have also changed...
——Inscription
That morning, that dusk, that poem
I participated in the story of your youth
But I couldn’t accompany you
The sun sets over the western mountains, and the twilight is vast
The autumn wind brings a hint of coolness
The birds fly over the mountains.
Dead leaves fall to the ground
The breeze will blow up the folds of the water ripples
The style of Mobei is the flying sand of the desert whistling in the wind
The style of Mobei is The hazy and moist spring rain of apricot blossoms
Passionate about the profound cultural heritage of my hometown
Poems and songs, rhymes and rhymes
The reciting Jian Jia Cang Cang, humming Zizhu Minor tune
Drunk on the bright moon, drunk on the spring breeze
Drunk on scene after scene of ten years
That wind, that rain, that dream< /p>
A person walks along the drizzle of the tree-lined avenue
The maple leaves fall one after another
As freely as dancing butterflies
Lying lightly on the ground, silently
Stepping on the thick maple leaves
Listening to your kind and soothing breathing
The soft morning light soaks into my dull heart Heart
The fine wind stirs up the messy autumn leaves and scatters the painful dust
Use confidence to heal the jagged teeth of the wound
Pick up the maple leaves that truly belong to you
Sealed in the hall full of books, sealed in all my memories
The sunshine leaks out wisps of warmth through the faint branches
Continue to move towards the dream. Glimmer
Looking for the forefront of memory
Ten years later, you still feel the same to me
That morning, that thing, that person
A thin sickle after autumn, a rickety posture
Swinging the sickle and sparing the hoe ripened the crops with full grains
The thick shoulder blades have been bathed in many seasons. Wheat waves
A head full of white hair, carrying the vicissitudes of life
Under your feet, there is a piece of hot land, brewing the fragrance of sweat
High curls The raised trousers are a woodblock print with a rich rural charm
The wheat ears with a smile on their face, but are you the hope that your sweat has watered?
The vigorous and rough unscripted song unfolds the folk poetry spread in the soil
The dark skin carries the sky and the scorching sun on its back
With a cry, shout out The infinite sincerity in my heart
A bowl of strong wine led to a soul-stirring legend
Standing, is a humble and plump land
Watching the wheat field, watching The rich granary of the earth
Ten years later, you are the windmill that never stops life
That person, that wine, that love
Once you stand, you stand It has become Xiaomi’s golden fairy tale
Once you stand, you have become the upright backbone of Xiaomi
The straw hat and coir raincoat support a party’s belief
A unique sculpture Standing as an unshakable monument in the field
The flow of black and white days
The square grid of the field is filled with symbols of hope
The early-maturing crops are cared for in every possible way< /p>
I also have a sweet smile in my dreams
Never worry that the birds will snatch me as their bride
Dreams are as sweet as dew and as beautiful as flowers
The sharp sickle has become another season of scenery
You once again interpret the true meaning of life in the fire
Ten years have passed and you have never fallen
That day, that place, that heart
Use a way of looking up to reach the highest point of the years
Walk through the scenery along the way with a suitable rhythm
Listen to the voice of the world with a peaceful mind
Cherish what you have and enjoy happiness
Reflect on sadness and forge determination
Learn to endure loneliness and learn to endure Get loneliness
Place your own vision in the city
Let time sculpture yourself into the image of the wind
Countless landscapes, countless doors, countless moods
p>
Pulling the eyes, pulling the ideal
Looking up at the sky, looking up at the ideal
Measuring the length of life and the proportion of time with your heart
Ten years It is a kind of sad happiness
That thought, that thought, that sadness
The birds in the pond miss the old forest, and the fish in the pond miss the old abyss
The present is not the past Than
The breeze blows, and the branches shed tears
A series of footprints fall on the clear roadside
We are all just children in spring, autumn and winter.
Carrying some longings
I would rather be lonely than independent
Those branches and leaves are close to the branches
Reluctant to wither , just for the sake of
Just not to let ourselves be helpless
Finally, we are no match for the desolation
Falling in the wind...
Those years we once guarded together
All slowly withered and passed away
We abandoned all the pious vows
We are just sad My child, listen to sad songs
Hum the sad melody gently
Walk in my sad style
Ten years of walking, ten years of pain, I have been suffering for ten years
That green, that quietness, that peace of mind
Thinking about the gray sky and the desert plain
The feeling of not being able to choose, just like a branch. Green is also like a treasure
I am lucky and happy in the ancient countryside
I have forgotten the sleepy journey and many unpleasant memories in the past
The green leaves are talking to me
Understand the silent language of nature, just as it understands me
Stay attached to this green space, green is the color of nature
Cling to a edge to attract it The rope
How to stretch the folded young leaves
Gradually grow old, gradually grow old
Green is the verdant love and happiness
< p> Green is the beautiful yearsIn ten years. Still stretching, still climbing, still relaxing
Ten years, twenty years, fifty years, the home is like a pair of unbroken shoes, forever put on the feet of the "wanderer" who lack love, like a brand new pair The umbrella has always been placed on the shoulders of the "wanderer" through wind and rain, like an eternal lamp, always shining on the bumpy and rugged road of the "wanderer".