I am a wayward child from Gu Cheng may be.
I am a child spoiled by my mother.
I am very self willed
I hope
Every moment.
As beautiful as colored crayons.
I hope
You can draw on your beloved white paper.
Freedom to paint clumsily.
Draw the next picture Never.
With tears in my eyes
A piece of sky
A feather and leaf belonging to the sky.
Light green night and apples
I want to draw the morning.
Draw dew
The smile you can see.
Draw all the youngest
Love without pain
Draw an imaginary picture
My lover
She has never seen a cloud.
Her eyes are the color of a clear sky.
She always looks at me.
Forever, watch
Never turn around suddenly.
I want to paint the distant scenery.
Draw a clear horizon and water waves
Draw many happy rivers.
Painting mountains—
Full of fuzzy fluff
I put them together.
Let them fall in love.
Let every acquiescence
Every quiet spring is exciting.
Turned into a little flower's birthday.
I also want to paint the future.
I haven't seen her, and I can't.
But I know she is beautiful.
I drew her autumn clothes.
Draw those burning candles and maple leaves
I paint a lot because I love her.
Extinguished heart
Hua wedding
Draw an early-rising festival-
There is cellophane on it.
And illustrations of northern fairy tales
I am a wayward child.
I want to erase all my misfortunes.
I think on earth
Draw all the windows
Let all eyes get used to the darkness.
Accustomed to the light
I want to paint a style.
Draw a mountain higher than the last one.
Draw the desire of the oriental nation
Draw the sea—
Endless sweet sound
Finally, in the corner of the paper
I want to paint myself, too
Draw a koala
He sat in the dark jungle of Victoria.
Sitting on a quiet branch
stare blankly
He has no home.
There is no heart in the distance.
He only has, a lot.
Berry dream
And big eyes.
I hope
think
But somehow,
I have no crayons.
Don't get a color moment.
I only have me.
My fingers and pain.
Just shredded pieces.
Beloved white paper
Let them find butterflies.
Let them disappear from today.
I'm still a kid.
A child spoiled by an imaginary mother
I am very self willed
Lin's "You are April Day on Earth", I said you are April Day on Earth.
Laughter lit up the wind in all directions.
Bright souls dance and change in the glory of spring.
You are a cloud in the sky in early April.
A breeze blew at dusk.
The planetesimals accidentally flashed by.
The drizzle fell in front of the flowers.
It's light and elegant.
You are Xianyan.
You are wearing a crown of flowers.
You are naive and solemn.
You are the full moon every night.
When the snow melts, you are as green as a fresh bud.
You are gentle and happy.
Water floats with white lotus in your dreams.
You are the flower of a tree.
It's Yan whispering between the beams
Are you love, warmth and hope?
You are an April day on earth.
Lu Qian's "skills" remember when he was young,
You like talking, and I like laughing.
Once sat side by side under a peach tree,
The wind is in the treetops and birds are chirping.
I fell asleep somehow,
How many flowers fall in the dream.
How did Xi Murong's A Flowering Tree let you meet me?
In my most beautiful moment
For this-
I prayed in front of the Buddha for 500 years.
Begging for it makes us have a dusty relationship.
Buddha made me a tree.
Follow the path you may take.
The sun is full of flowers carefully,
Every flower carries my previous hopes.
Please listen carefully when you come near.
The trembling leaves are my passion for waiting,
When you walked under the tree, you didn't notice me.
On the ground behind you
Friend, that's not a petal,
It is my withered heart
Xu's "Occasionally I am a cloud in the sky".
Occasionally projected into your heart-
You shouldn't be surprised,
There's no need to be happy-
It disappeared in an instant.
You and I met in the dark sea,
You have yours, I have mine, direction;
You remember it well,
You'd better forget,
The light that shines on each other at this intersection!
I don't know which direction the wind blows. I don't know the wind.
Which direction does it blow—
In my dream,
In the light waves of dreams.
I don't know the wind
Which direction does it blow—
In my dream,
Her tenderness, my intoxication.
I don't know the wind
Which direction does it blow—
In my dream,
Sweetness is the brilliance of dreams.
I don't know the wind
Which direction does it blow—
In my dream,
Her ingratitude, my sadness.
I don't know the wind
Which direction does it blow—
In my dream,
Heartbroken in the sadness of dreams!
I don't know the wind
Which direction does it blow—
In my dream,
Hazy is the light in a dream.