Look at those dying flowers.
Look at the sunset in late autumn
Look at the branches covered with green leaves in the wilderness.
The beautiful scenery is dancing with the red leaves.
Are the years after flying the same?
Independent of Zeng Jin's dream
Those old days
It's too late
Suddenly became a decadent memory.
Wandering in the world of mortals, I don't know anything.
This lonely tear
Never familiar with the sad back.
How can I relive the real smile of that day?
At the moment, the red leaves are slowly fading.
What should I bring to pay homage to my lost youth?
We have enjoyed ourselves for several years.
waddle
Support each other until the end of time.
Laughing at the decadent sunshine
But helpless in the indifferent vicissitudes of life.
street
Traditional characters are gradually disappearing.
Where does the crowd wander?
The ruins at the end of that street
How many footprints were recorded in the rainy season?
Prosperity is the time for peeling.
Where does the blue slate extend?
A wall covered with afterglow
Staring at that childish face
Who is dreaming?
It is Chang Jie
Or an old man who smokes
Is it prosperous or bleak?
Who abandoned them?
It's the time.
Or people's memories.
The grave of the old dead
I walked alone.
Walking in the dark, walking on the rugged path
The hazy moonlight covered the sky.
Can't see its hypocritical face
The stars are laughing at me and my loneliness.
I still keep walking.
But I was angry, and I shouted
I sadly enjoy the sweetness of pain.
Because I have to walk.
Cold silence flows in the wind.
The tree is swaying.
I saw the wind blowing over Chen's grave and dried my tears.
I look at people abandoned by the world.
I went from apathy to cynicism to sadness to despair.
I abandoned Chen's grave like a walking corpse and moved on.
Suddenly, I felt a strange chill.
A solemn statue stands there.
My memory is in a trance.
Then the spirit began to strip like crazy.
I suddenly knelt in front of the statue and dug hard with my hands.
Blood ignited the hope in my heart, and it became stronger and stronger.
When the blood dyed red loess
I hope to hold the thread-bound ancient books and shed tears selflessly.
Suddenly, a cold wind blew.
Thread-bound ancient books are indifferent to weathering and have disappeared.
My dull face saw with my own eyes that hope was dashed.
See the saint's numb face
Where should I go?
Look around at a loss
But I suddenly remembered Chen's grave.
In my spare time, I will write some poems to express my condolences.