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Summer evenings
The wind blew gently from the south
The heat brings emptiness
Bring the sickness in the poem
Temporal butterflies
Stars fall all over the water
Blocking the road to a foreign land
The bells of the evening swirled gently around the hustle and bustle of the town
Like a dream covered in bronze tones
Deep-seated memories thinned out in the pale blue night and the clear birdsong
It's like an old-time scene of a boat sailing against the current
Thoughts occasionally come to the July branches
The not-so-sharp part has been caught by the wind
Like a crow nostalgic alone
Didn't fall into an old house that shook gently
The night is like an ancient ship whose whereabouts are unknown
When you wake up from a dream with a smile, you meet another self
Begin a vigorous love
Then hide the inner flame alone
The lost bumps in the poetry are in a silver word
A barge sailing for spring is ventilated on all sides
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The gates of spring have just opened
The sparkling water is covered with glorious sunsets
Memories occasionally fall into a classic phrase
Infinitely close to the peak of daylight
The bronze hue fell around a white bird
I can't hide the end of a dusk
The thrill of twilight
Occasionally awaken countless lurking islands
The powerful impact was in the path of a bird
Another door to the world was opened
And the summer scenery woven by the bird's nest
Gradually drowned out by other words
Like a sudden storm
Like the calm after love
miss
I seem to have arrived at the nearest island to spring
But they can't see the people they want to see
And everything is hidden in the heart
Together with spiritual distress
All captured by the graceful posture that the wind occasionally shows
Occasionally, a bronze hiss in an elegant apple tree
A faint thunder crossed the purple shawl of lavender
Occasionally, at night to mask the religious atmosphere brought by time
And the stars and the white bird feathers
That's what I need right now
There is no guidance from them
I won't be able to see anything a meter away
now
The sun is like an illusory horse
Occasionally, the scene of spring is sprinkled with the wind-dwelling streets
And when the water flooded my whole body again
The pale blue sky was my only ferry
My thoughts were stitched up again and again
It's not as strong as it was at the beginning
But it never gets lost
Like a flock of snow-white sheep flying in the pale blue sky
Author: Shang Changjiang
Picture @ Amnesia North Island
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