I can't escape her sight, and I can't escape my heart. The hometown sat there far away, not sad, not happy, not anxious, not dry, calm and calm. Ren Canghai Sangtian, time flies.
Sometimes some people carry their bags, carrying fireworks-like hopes, and still vague dreams go far. She did not know how to stay, with a meandering and quiet mountain road, just silently send him off; when someone carried a bag, with an anxious hope, the clearest dream returned, she did not know how to refuse, whether it was a brocade, just silently embraced him into his arms.
I always thought that when I walked out of the mountain, I walked out of her sight. How do you know that even if you flee to the end of the world, she can easily capture me with her bare hands; I always think that if I leave far away, I will gradually blur in my heart. And how do you know, the farther away the clearer it is, and the grasp of it is full of thoughts.
I don't know whether it is the loneliness of the hometown in the mountains, or the loneliness of the wandering people. As long as the hometown gently shakes the thread in his hand, he can pull it, even if it is thousands of miles away, the wanderer's long-windstrings.
Hometown is so domineering, but can not find a reason to hate her. Those who have gone will eventually come back, "the green mountains are still there, and the sunset is red a few degrees."