1, to Andersen.
The golden quicksand drowned your fairy tales, along with my ignorant smiles and tears. I believe that these are all seeds, and only after burial can they have vitality. When I came back, my eyebrows were white, but the desert became a green world. I want to rest here. In the dew, I will regain the feelings I lost when I was a child.
2. "answer".
This is the most beautiful season, you can forget your dreams, flowers are everywhere, and shadows are floating all over the mountain. This is the most beautiful shadow. You can walk down the hill gently shaking the sun, and it will jingle. This is the most beautiful wine glass, which can sing and put flowers. It is surrounded by the sun. If you print on the ground, whoever wants to pick up the shadow will pick up the sun.
3. "I sing my own songs."
I sing my own songs, on the road full of bananas, in the bush market, in the dance of cedars and birch trees, in the original joy of Shan Ye. I sing my own songs, in the horrible smoke clouds of thermal power plants, in the complicated organization of gearboxes, in the kiss of grinding wheels and in the operation of social civilization.
I sing my own songs. I am neither strange nor skilled. I am a child of etude, and I would like to join all the song teams. In order not to let the standardized people know, I sing my own songs. I sang and sang my own songs until the world recovered its prehistoric loneliness. The slender moon came to me from the seaside and asked softly, Why? Why? You sing your own song.