Outside the window, the long night is long, the silence occupies the sound, the night is silent, the cold sound is broken. The moon is like a practice, sprinkled on the earth, giving some life on the earth vitality. Time passes in minutes and seconds, daylight

Outside the window, the long night is long, the silence occupies the sound, the night is silent, the cold sound is broken.

The moon is like a practice, sprinkled on the earth, giving some life on the earth vitality.

Time passes in minutes and seconds, and the day comes quietly, just as the night goes quietly, and time can no longer be turned back.

In the memories that have passed, a word, a lifetime, a lifetime of love, a glass of wine... It's all in the past, empty and sad.

When I was a student, my heart curtain had long been closed, leaving only a little fragment of memory at this moment, like the wind and like a shadow.

There are regrets, there are reliefs, I have cried and laughed, they are all in the past, they are just yesterday's recurrence.

The past is like a cloud of smoke, time has dimmed the memory, the clouds have flown in smoke, and everything has become nothing.

The moon and night are shallow, the day is approaching, some starlight is like a revisit, can not bear to leave, this moment interprets not to leave, not to give up.

Man, however, has gone away, and has become a sudden look back.

In the present, down-to-earth, soon it is a time to say good years in the fragrance of rice flowers and listen to the sound of frogs.