Wind as the wind meets

Wind as the wind meets
Pass by spacious meadow, I like with unalterable transferring, transferring, asking the end such as last line getting gray always, the wind as the wind has met, how is it? Always say with a smile at the end, this question, must classify and discuss at last line! As the east wind has been met the south wind, the southeaster has appeared; As the west wind has been met the north wind, the northwester has appeared; Act as " '
Then? Lengthy speech " The wind theory " Bomb me black and blue. .

        They say, all of us have grown up.
        I shake the head stubbornly, no! We have not left the ivory tower yet, filling in the earphone the day of the caricature of looking has not finished yet " '
        They say, don't deny some things easily, we are going through and growing up, just this course is a little long, we will all grow up unconsciously.
        At this time, I always look at the azure sky, stare flankly. There is the bird that flies over. Do not leave the trace.
        The wind as the wind has met, how is it?

        Then, I have known that there is one that lets youthful fellow surge. All of us can not stop.
        They all say, in childhood, the castle piled up in the snowfield, and youth, is the sculpture engraved with the hard rock. However, I favour it to the former, am envying, we are still silently like this, have grown up in the mighty torrent of time gradually.
       Then, I have known that there is one that lets youthful fellow surge. All of us can not stop.
       They all say, in childhood, the castle piled up in the snowfield, and youth, is the sculpture engraved with the hard rock. However, I favour it to the former, know it is the mirage perfectly well, know perfectly well it is written in water. Like so stubbornly. So inconceivable.
       I look like and have a lengthy dream, do not have plot, have no language. Just in the shallow the firmament, a Chinese parasol tree like poem, is leaning on the same small log cabin of poem. That's it. Know it is the mirage perfectly well, know perfectly well it is written in water. Like so stubbornly. So inconceivable.
       I look like and have a lengthy dream, do not have plot, have no language. Just in the shallow the firmament, a Chinese parasol tree like poem, is leaning on the same small log cabin of poem. That's it. I know by what kind of is it way begin, by what kind of way expire, only know, it is the youth.

       Open the wooden casket, still several photos lie quietly inside, the above is a face of our childishness, smile with the child's simplicity. The film lost, just like what we have lost childhood.
        I knew at last " ' as the wind has met when the wind, youth, simple Shang " '

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