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In those years, we had wine and company.
Watch their stories!
Suddenly, our story is mottled.
At the same time, quit smoking, alcohol and human feelings!
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When the wind comes,
Dry your tears;
I don't know,
It hurts people.
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When the sun goes down,
Yingshanhong;
Is to wait,
Returning from weeding.
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Come again,
Things are people;
Come again,
The windowsill blooms!
"Air-dried" and poetry anthology "The Night Is Not Right" are a good poem worth appreciating and appreciating.
Introduction:
It's not how strong we are, but the west wind blows away the tears. Once we listened to stories told by old people, but later we became the people in the stories, giving up smoking, alcohol and human feelings. What are we waiting for? Will you open the window sill when you come to Penglai again? When I came back, everything was different?
Overview:
When we were young, we always had many friends and playmates. They liked to get together and talk about our ideals. I am full of imagination and longing for the future, learning the skills taught by my elders, and hearing about the love and hate in the Jianghu. Time flies, and in a blink of an eye, we are getting older. We have also experienced a lot of ups and downs and hardships, and experienced a lot of pride and frustration. However, more and more people are used to burying stories in their hearts, and no more friends get together to talk about them and comment on the future warmth between people.
Autumn is coming again, and the west wind keeps blowing on my face, drying my tears. So gradually, I forgot all kinds of fleeting time, no longer knew the sadness of parting, and also forgot the joy of reunion.
And whenever the sun sets, the sunset glow sets off the whole mountain. Who are you waiting for? Is that the man who came back from weeding? Or a wanderer in the distance?
One day, we will all go to the last year. When that day came, everything changed, right? When that day comes, new life will grow and bloom again in this land!
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Over time, I bowed my head to write the culture of the Book of Songs and looked up at the Milky Way. Please pay attention to the streamer poet and take you to open the poetic space!
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