In spring, the peach blossoms in Longhua listen to the widow's tears on those nights with blood spots, those nights without stars and those nights when the wind blows, and this ancient land is always like a hungry beast licking the blood of the tenacious son of a young man, thus experiencing a long winter, a season of ice and snow, and an infinite sleepy expectation. These bloodstains have exploded countless flower buds in the mythical night of the dark night in the east, and there are spring people everywhere in Jiangnan.
I said: from the tomb hole in the suburbs.
I love this land.
If I were a bird, I should also sing with a hoarse throat: this land that was hit by the storm, this river of sadness and indignation that always surges on us, this angry wind that blows endlessly, and the incomparable gentle dawn from the forest ...-Then I died, and even my feathers rotted in the land.
Why do I often cry?
Because I love this land deeply. ...
bridge
When land and land are separated by water, when roads and roads are cut off by water, smart people stand by the water: thus a bridge is created.
Humans who have suffered from trekking should thank this bridge.
Bridge is the connection between land and land;
Bridge is the love of river and road;
The bridge is a station for ships and vehicles to nod their heads;
This bridge is where people wave goodbye to pedestrians by boat.
tree
A tree, a tree is independent of each other. Wind and air tell them the distance, but under the cover of soil, their roots grow in invisible depths, and they entangle their roots.