nostalgia
□ Jia Yan
That year,
I am like a dandelion,
uprooted,
Drifting with the wind,
Just know - what is nostalgia.
Nostalgia, is the head of the sunset building,
Look at the oblique veins of the water leisurely;
Nostalgia is in the sound of breaking,
Sigh the streamer gone without looking back;
Nostalgia, is the night of the full moon,
Sing your hometown deeply...
By the side of the old path,
Is the peach blossom still the same?
In the thick shade of summer,
But is there still a loose fence?
Autumn insects chirping under the west window,
Are you still singing the music of the year?
Ewha Courtyard,
Can there be a dissolved moon color?
Willow Pond,
But is there still a light breeze?
Full Moon West Building,
But is there still a deceased person who has been relying on the column for a long time?
Years later,
Finally understood -
The most bitter is the homesickness of wine;
The longest is the way home;
The most memorable thing is the dream of reunion...
Jia Yan is a senior chinese teacher in middle schools. Being on campus, conscientious, but not to mislead people's children; walking life, everything follows fate, only willing to look down on honor and humiliation. I know how much life can be as good as I want, but I want to be half satisfactory. Brilliant in the sun, strong in the wind and rain. Life is short, the heart is like the sun, and the spring light is everywhere.