Life's efforts, but in order to return home.
Like me, from one city to another city, bustling, but can not find their place. A foreign country's heart makes me suffocate, in the end were unable to penetrate to its mysterious core. Youth Huakaihuaxie, dream snow rain fly, are completed in the drift, they are both passing away in an instant too late to pick up, but also too late to appreciate the years has been precipitated to the bottom of relentless.
I hid in his hometown of sadness inside.
From the beginning of the autumn rain last night, has been stretching into the early morning. That kind of coolness, in the heart can not be rolled to form a kind of emotional speech, with the rain quietly extend to, reach to the country, the century-old roots in a sensitive nerve. Dirt road, Qing Shiqiao or old wells, are covered with a layer of a touch of Autumn, soft, dense, like a dream, like hidden in the weeds or moss body was time to soak into the songs of desolation.
I walked towards a quiet Takaoka.
Of life's most soft and warm memories, from the foot of the soil in the hair-trigger. In its khaki-colored face, the collection of a teenager wandering the colorful, light yellow, light green or pink, long grass was wet and happy insects, carefully guarded, bright as new. Game among the children of those noisy sound, just like rains from afar, ear listening to is actually intermittent rain, hitches a ride a dreams, dreams into wild flowers and weeds of the body, the blooming of a surprise and joy ,
A tree standing in front of me, eyes steady, like a day in my life peek into an older, my feelings, with respectful silence and its vision, communication without words, from the wrinkles on its gray-ri I see that smile, that love and inclusion.
It will transition to the distance of my thoughts.
Autumn in the Gao Gang boundless Tangli under the forest extension, the spread of mold-colored fruit of the tree the tree exudes a sweet, little body like the stars embedded in the wilderness home, let the memory of his hometown to become gentle moving, like a mother standing in entrance to the village, call a day does not back naughty eyes long, warm. Poetry aesthetic conception falling from the trees, the completion of Montreal, rouge, completed in memory of a girl in red skirt, inadvertently Looking Back, but it can touched a lifetime. Juvenile Sentimental time, be re-picked up, read, his eyes moist, will parachute gently down, arms open, football wind and rain into the Huai.
Xiang Lian I have been intractable.