Spring. There are ten thousand lights flashing in the sky.
My stupid brother is very embarrassed.
In the last freeze. On the garbage dump scattered at the head of the village.
Pick up those southern oranges that rotted last season.
There are one or two cigarette butts that have not been sacrificed.
Spring. There are 10 thousand hopes flashing in life.
Become a wealthy villager and a qualified husband.
No longer take dreams as horses, pens as swords, and stupidity as bliss.
No longer change all the grain in the field into rice wine.
No longer like a poet among poets, he "loves to run amok".
Spring. There are ten thousand colors showing off in the music.
Like a gorgeous witch, I have no reason not to love her.
I'm used to breaking down in front of her.
Her illusory rope lifted me to the vast sky.
Do endless flying in a juggling posture.
Spring. When ten thousand spring comes.
The dumb brother can talk like a king.
All the family's hopes are disillusioned, just like the aging fruit trees in autumn.
I drove colorful flying horses and planted seeds on ancient land.
Ten thousand seeds are ten thousand uncompromising poets.