Walking on the zebra crossing of youth, running all the way, crazy. Laughter slipped by the ear. The lost beauty is blowing.
At the end of the year, the tickets for the return trip flew all over the sky, like snow. The blood ran down, and the wind couldn't stop it. The earth was frozen, and on the windowsill there were drops of water that had not yet died. Like snowflakes, flying in the wind,I don't know. I don't know. Let the symphony of youth ring and walk in the long ice and snow.
Spring March, the wind was blown into the grass can not help the world's curiosity, quietly, quietly out. Snow and ice in the sun under the caress of submission, the collection of the road to the other side of heaven.The temperature is still a little low, but it can not stop the pace of youth. Walking in the green fields, the earth's fragrance from the nose, there is the smell of grass astringent. Step into the cycle of the new generation.
Cicada once shouted, praying that the sky can come in the hot afternoon some dew. But God seemed indifferent to his expectations. The greater the cicada's cry, the higher the temperature.
The sun is getting weaker, the sky turns overcast, the wind is blowing, and the autumn is the summer. The maple leaf, once green, was red in the blink of an eye, flickering in the wind, like a sea of fire. Leaves will arrive, the quiet mountain road is spread into a thick layer, step on, soft, noNo footprints, only leaves left in the mind "rustling" sound. Everything in this cycle.
Jade bowl of sand, the growth of the road, you and I have the joy of singing and laughing, you and I have experienced a hundred States of life. Do not start with life, not to die for the end, to belong to their own taste of youth in the world.
Let the course of youth not end with regret.
Youth is like an open door, you can't go back when you come out!
The sound of years in the songs of the wind in the crowd Who sighs unknowingly? Sighing at that unknowingly old... "