I walked through Jiangnan.
The appearance in the season is like the opening and falling of lotus flowers.
If the east wind does not come, catkins will not fly in March.
Your heart is like a little lonely city.
Like a bluestone street facing the night.
Without a sound, the spring curtain in March can't be lifted.
Your heart is a small closed window.
My dada horseshoe is a beautiful mistake.
I am not a returnee, I am a passer-by. ...
Youth in Xi Murong
All endings have been written.
All the tears have also flowed out.
Suddenly forgot.
What kind of beginning?
in ancient times
A summer gone forever.
No matter how hard I pursue it,
Young you
It's like passing clouds.
And your smiling face
Extremely shallow and light
Gradually become unknown
Clouds after sunset
Then open the yellow title page.
Fate predestined it.
Extremely clumsy
With tears in my eyes
I read it again and again.
But I have to admit.
youth
This is a sloppy book.