Rain washes the summer sky.
The faint blue color reveals the loneliness of a place.
Write the story of that year.
Play it back like an old movie without leaving the scene.
You said I'm sorry, I love you, and then you cried.
I don't know what to do. I can't help dreaming that my sadness will stay.
Since the first summer after you left.
I try to record things about you and me in the most beautiful poems.
Helpless fingertips are cold
Can't write warm words
Oh, baby, but I still don't understand.
I don't understand why you chose to leave, and whether I will continue to wait.
The leaves of the plane floated by the roadside, and the green moonlight lingered outside the door.
One day the lost heart will come back.
Blister on a summer night
Lift a long pole,
Back to the greener grass,
Full of stars,
Play songs in a starry place.
But I can't play songs,
Quiet is a farewell flute;
Summer insects are also silent for me,
Silence is the bubble tonight!
summer
Before I could put on a dress for you, the sun scorched your heart, bearing the entrustment of spring, and you carefully guarded your first promise. In the afternoon, the dark clouds swam across the clear sky, and then shed a touching tear, washing away the tired dust on the farmers' shoulders. At this time, the newly withered shoots of the branches have given birth to new life. In the chirp of crickets, the figure was slowly elongated, elongated ... People in the crops waved sickles and hoes gnawed by years, and wrote some distant hopes with the poet's pen.