Chapter one: Summer prose poems are out of the window, and summer is already a mature fruit, hanging in mid-air and teetering.
Two people in summer-day and night-have fulfilled their long-cherished wish-to get married and have children in this pregnant season.
The descendants of summer-insects, fish, birds and beasts-dare not do the action of staying up in the day and going out at night; People, descendants of insects, fish, birds and beasts, stand on the shoulders of their ancestors, aim high and dream of opening up a battlefield.
Summer is premature and irrational.
On the day I left the village, my summer had not adapted, day and night.
The cold in late spring is long gone, and my summer is still cold.
Xia Tianci Everyone dreams, but I mean the deer is a horse, which makes the dream empty, and the dream empty. I am a stranger to myself.
Ice needs to walk carefully on fire, and Xia Meng needs reason more.
In the valley of despair, summer sang with thunder and cried with the red sun, and he found the exit.
My summer is the center of the four seasons. It comes from the source and has no end.
My summer is charming, because it is windy.
Chapter two: July summer prose poems
The city was destroyed by the heat wave.
A corner of sultry streets and alleys
A girl in a blue skirt.
seek
A touch of green
In the suburbs.
On the burning leaves.
A shepherd boy
Driving a flock of sheep like white clouds
Can't run far