On a quiet summer night, the stream runs like a song, just like music from the sky, tinkling through our hearts and dripping into our hearts. copy

Quiet autumn, cool autumn wind is like a song, just like the movement of the soul, yellow leaves are printed in the palm of your hand, lingering. In the cold winter, white snow is like a cloud, just like the clothes of the earth, floating in our hearts with the wind until the deepest and purest place. ~! Adopt it