In the wilderness of a foreign land,
I am a reusable snow.
Introducing the mountain, then investing in the river;
Through the plains, then flow over the big lake.
It is lonely years.
The moon is deep,
I suffocate in the blue villagers.
Daisies have a dream white.
Outside the plug
Fangfang grass.
Your sorrow into me,
In this landscape in this landscape.
And every night is like water,
It will touch my old days of pain.
The woman is involved in the river into hibiscus.
Nor is it yesterday.
And the river is loaded with white clouds,
Also, leaving only a few a few new poems.
The song of the hometown is a clear flute.
There is always a night in the evening.
The face of the hometown is a blurry.
As if the waving in the fog leaves.
Will be the wilderness,
All colors are quiet,
And the dark is still in the future.
In the mountains, the green,
There is also the last passion.
In the shadow of the water side,
Also stayed with my heart,
Leave all my helves,
It is no longer possible to change the footprint.
The two white water birds,
Still in the bow,
Flying on the gray slopes of the sea,
Blurred gardenia flower.
After sunset,
I started recalling,
Recall the faint sunshine and faint floral in all streams.
You have already washed my pen with tears,
It is good to draw the rain of the pool tonight.
And in the heart of the fragrance corner,
You tried a lot of a lot of aid.
