When laughter disappears into silence,
When confidence is lost,
I approached the footsteps of my dreams,
Whether it is still firm and persistent;
When the smile disappears in the desert of the soul,
When the ice and snow froze the family's promise,
In my helpless heart,
Whether it is still green and fresh.
Who doesn't long for harvest,
Who hasn't suffered,
Who doesn't want the branches of life to be rich and colorful,
Who wants to turn hope into flowers in dreams?
Between reality and ideal, the constant is trudge, between gloom and glory, the constant is development.
No one wants to get rid of the fetters of the secular and let his life be spent in mediocrity.
Pack your luggage well, and you can reach the same brilliant end from different starting points.
There is no right or wrong in life, and success always belongs to the strugglers.