I can't hear happy songs. The nightingale is singing in the garden. Touched, that spring night has flown, you can't say: wait, come back. Autumn has come bleak, and the continuous rain is full of infinite sadness. Girlfriend sleeps in the grave, and love is buried in her heart. Autumn wind and rain will not wake her dreams, nor will it warm her blood.
Restore her posture. The nightingale's song finally fell silent, because the nightingale has flown overseas, and it can't sing a more beautiful song, just like whispering on that cool night. The intimacy and joy of the past have flown away. At that time, the days were so carefree and the feelings in my heart became cold.