A fugue, could not help but lie in the rape flowers, all of life's troubles are not exist, ran up the sky, I went to your concerns but not to distant places, passionately looked at the sky in a daze, the sky is so blue, the cloud is so elegant, ear rustling sound suddenly are nature's most beautiful music. Light, beautiful flowers that people unconsciously forget yourself, as if heaven and earth together, with the sun and moon, quietly around, no noise, no sadness, we have become one of the most transparent nature. The sky was drunk, drunk, I was drunk, you are drunk, drunk and confused world, drunk people all right and wrong, enenyuanyuan, drunk a glass.
Flower is falling all over the sky, drifting profusely and disorderly petals floating in the sky and fell on the ground, as if the winter sky fluttering snowflakes, glittering and translucent; as if the Queen Mother shed broken wine, sweet scent; as if the world dancing fairy, naive naughty. White blossoms, opened in April in the world, in the most beautiful season, white, pink, with a flower drifting profusely and disorderly, people can not bear to step on, walk away from the open hands, a fragrance, swept away a fragrance. Close your eyes, open arms raised his head, raised the smile toward the sun, is the 45 degree angle of the smile, the petals fall in the hair, fell on the brow, fell on the face, fell on the already deep heart.
Let us have a sea in the heart, the flow out is two lines of tears, but I do not feel lonely, I just simply like writing desolation. Once our perfunctory emotions, in other people's memory curve gradually gradually fading away. Once the throbbing, just the years left me a person's illusion, I do not believe my eyes. I didn't cry, I just learned to miss it.
Once we have had a good vision like Haizi's "facing the sea and spring blossoms". Once, we used to remember the past events of that year. Once we didn't know that busy night night revelry, we had pretended to deceive ourselves. In our time in the past, a sad and happy memories like a pearl like series together, constitute our life as pretty as a flower.
Looking back on the inner sense of peace, Youth passes as a fleeting wave., maybe our hearts grow old gradually away from the young. At one time, we would be upset about something and would jump for something. We would love someone to die. We would hate someone who could hate himself. We could love, we could hate, but we could not be careless. However, time is generally in the birch leaf wind rustling wind make heart calm, we're like a stream flowing slowly, so anyone can have scruples about who, who can forget the original vicissitudes of life, who can live simply.