Looking back, the sky registered by dark clouds is covered with traces of bird wings. Returning in the twilight, a stone statue stands silently in the grass, letting yesterday's and today's wind condense into a drop of tears.
Looking back again, as time goes by, about the beautiful life, about our dumbfoundedness, about our terminal illness, about truth and hypocrisy, about passion and indifference, about what the saints of the past and present regard as poison.
Looking back again, innocence.
Several insect buzzings were chattering in my ears. He is confident that "if you don't have to endure ten years of hard work, how can you get the fragrance of plum blossoms"? He is actually cute and silly. In a daze, I stood in front of the window, forgetting to hurry, forgetting about the woman from the Southern Song Dynasty, and bent her waist into the word "sorrow". Forget whether we will also have to give up some things on the road of life and in real life.
Looking back again, cut out a few fishing flowers like Jiang Maple, this is how the alternative wings we long for can be formed.
Then, spread your wings and fly high.
Butterfly. Looking back, I actually don't want to leave, actually I want to stay, but my home is very small, one person, one stroke, one mirror. Looking back again, standing in the light of a love song, is the love of a leaf close to water? I should be moved by a cloud.
When I look back, I miss this woman who was destined to me in my previous life, or I miss the long sword in the long sleeve of a scholar, opening up the silhouette of a semicircular ancient bridge or a small town somewhere in Jiangsu.
Getting thinner day by day. Looking back again, open your heart, hold your heartbeat, and let the past unfold in love songs.
Looking back again, one word, one sentence, thousands of flying white birds, where are you? How many strange stations do we have to miss before we can leave you with a lifelong memory of me in the moment we pass each other?
\Looking back, the moonlit river once again overflowed the distance we walked. There was broad land under our feet, stars twinkling above our heads, and cicadas singing on the branches. My grandparents said that was life and hope.
Looking back, you are happy and I am lucky too.
A tree, a hand reaching out to his hometown, Wang Wei picked the dogwood tree in the distance in his longing, and expressed it in tears. Looking back, looking back on the past, beautiful moon on the beach, without facts, without what-ifs, without assumptions, without what-ifs, I am fearless tonight. Looking back again, the days flying through the night sky passed through my poems, bringing my lonely heart back to November 22, 2006 AD.
Looking back again, I can see two lines of hot tears singing one drop at a time, flying to my small window, wading through my emotional loneliness, seeping out from my poetic bones, and quietly opening on the roadside that I must pass.
Looking back, yesterday was a rainy day.
The wild geese set off and flew south. Take away the thoughts that I can't keep,
