Early summer of wind, not tied to the YuJiao late spring, the wind blows cloud floating day, my heart that a trial of thoughts with a piece of the fallen petal adrift in lonely journey.
Hurried by more than 30 years of time, we can't forget, that moving the sadness and joyous heart so short, but in my life rings permanent remembered.
In may, the flowers are apples, my gaudy eyes can only do on this one season is broken, in the chapter of the fun and rhymes in childhood, after you quietly and fleeting figure.
Father, moon tonight, if you still has the will of dreams?
Father tonight, my hands are empty, only that the boundless gobi desert in the wind low moans.
Late spring and early summer, to me, is not just a seasonal alternate. But a lyrical, in this beautiful gobi, mountains, set each other off bubbling streams, and let me worry about share of the warm, and the remote monitoring, and the dream reunion.
freedom-lily blogspot blog
Remember? In the water as the clear morning, I ran to the a purple hill. Big chunks of golden bloom in the field, YouCaiHua opened, I ride your shoulder high, the play laughter to provoke a cuckoo sings, a few butterfly perched on the shoulders of snow-white I.
Then you to all of the mood, the pity in the your eyes I, a and a mountain flower as beautiful as charming female; At that time I was standing in the YouCaiHua field, to chase the color of the residents of butterfly, you are sitting on the hill, leaning back in the blue sky.
Mother's songs, green grassland; The wind, dad to hum hometown tunes, this all of all, are already dissolved into the distant and the ancient times, but as a clear yesterday.
Father, the mountain, whether you rape floral gold will also go to the hill of that?
Father'll be yours through all the years, the sunset across the cloud, can have you gigantic there?
Know your shadow, but also with the wind had always hide in my dream landscape in a smile. Every year of this one season, always want to keep the intersection, you are the wind to wait until you can wait, but always GuHang the goose and every moment in heart pictures. The frames
I know, you could not in my missing disappointed again, can only leave some stop feelings, a little joys and sorrows, back in time, or in my broken dream with me to vanity.
Father, you know? Really want to the afterlife, I is a flowering tree, is long in your necessary crossing, constant blossom, the most brilliant smile on its shape.
Really want to, in the simple life during the past, see see flowers flower falls, listening to the wind see you sing, fill me with your minor short met and the distance apart again.
Your love, as is the great, the but again so short, leaving only a nine years old with you in a photo of me, so I at long in the dreams of the countless times and you meet, but just in the psychedelic, cannot in hand.
Really want to fold a green reed blow out this one season crazy long sincere feeling, let all my thoughts and you say that finish in fertile not words.
You know, in between the heaven and earth, gentle smile, is already understand that the content of the flute I pour?
Father, I loved ones, perhaps you will be in a may, travelling, wear a cast to a Yang Lin can't meet greetings, entrust each meeting, already separate a life time qingxi polish in the midst of the years apart, let me back to think you would look.
imagination-lily blogspot blog
In this long road, I know, I will in some very quiet night, cannot refuse to hear that, your kind, and you take your walk on steps.
My father, 30 years of be apart, I no longer afraid of your absence, as are not afraid of not afraid on flower falls, I fear the bottleneck of the dream, and is too small to you with my permanent thoughts.
Live and die, gathering and scattered, life in the unceasing transmigration experience in the back and forth between light smile, spend between RuZuiRuChi, let me keep the smile in the deep heart's core rises in the heaven and the earth, it never, in water, in you my dream...
