If youth is a song, it must be a song with a touch of sadness.
Youth is staring at the window in class, watching the gorgeous and lonely sunset fall, and the faint sadness is like falling with the flowers in the season when gardenias fall. Empty, this is the best interpretation.
If youth is a song, it must be a song with struggle and struggle.
Youth is still burning the midnight oil and studying hard; The cappuccino on the table is still full of fragrance. At this time, hard work is the best interpretation. composition
Youth is like a song, like water passing by, unforgettable melody, once heard, leaving a trace of regret.
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Youth is picturesque, colorful and full of sunshine; Youth is like poetry, with long meaning, looking up to the heart; Youth, like wine, thrives and revels under camellia.
The flawless waning moon hangs in the starry sky, accompanied by stars-melodious. Looking at the elegant red flag, although it is particularly dazzling against the blue sky, it suddenly becomes clear. The pool of spring water by the stream, with the wind, is so microwave sparkling, swaying by the stream and rippling in our youth.
Looking at a pool of spring water in the distance, it seems to flow eastward, remembering the charm of the ancient city and the past when leaving. In this youthful years, the stream is still flowing, just like a beautiful symphony, playing on the riverside and in the stream. Listening to this wonderful music is like walking in the clouds and enjoying the warmth-bathing in the sun.
Parting streams do not mean light. Too many colors, too many sketches, it is impossible to achieve the ultimate.
The display of beauty. On that river, the stream still flows, because it carries too much beauty, too much beauty, too many wishes and too many troubles. ...
Youth, this picture scroll, is like a piece of acacia rain, carrying this little sadness, floating on the ancient river. This charm and artistic conception are so beautiful that people have to watch it. A pool of spring water seems to flow eastward ...
The old city with classical charm is still changing, and it may get older and older; The girl who plays the flute is sitting on a stake, but the years are changing. Maybe she will get older and older. ...
Maybe one day the spring will stop flowing, or maybe it's just a guess.
I had a paintbrush in my hand, and just once or twice, I drew the painting Youth. ...