I remember when I was a kid,
Cicada poem outside the window.
Chasing butterflies on the way to school,
Think about dragonflies.
Pull out eggs and branches to scare birds,
Fishing in the stream is also late.
Childlike heart still exists,
Who untied the flat head and dyed the silk?
Second, childhood.
In the sunset,
Innocent laughter on the green land;
In the snowflake dance,
Pure and flawless hand-in-hand carnival;
When osmanthus plays,
The hand that pursues purity is fragrant in the dust,
In the stream,
There is clear and transparent laughter.
Years evaporate gently like water,
Childhood is like gold, quietly settling.
In the depths of the world,
Childhood is full of light,