The songs of the newborn children in Suicao.
A photo of a familiar and unfamiliar face
Surrounded. Dense. It is full.
Night of the soul, hidden in the clouds
Popper has been squeezed out of shape.
I have the same body leaves.
Such as slow beat notes, is to push the river.
A bright feast, a bright forehead
Street lamp Like a hermit's eyes
Who seems to be smiling right all the time?
The beggar bent his trembling hand.
I always wanted it, but I couldn't find it.
Anything that can simulate reality.
I brew a warm year.
Every green body painting
Before catching this dusk. ......
The flash is still lasting.
It's tepid.
No longer fall into the shadow of the past
And this night is no longer a boiling confrontation
The swaying and elongated shadow is arbitrarily elongated.
I clearly saw my white-haired mother, Feng.
The eyes of hope fell down again.
I walked towards the noise.
Walk into a person's night