Today's winter solstice, plum blossoms on the branches. The yellow flower bones are like gems, and the small petals are crystal clear. I lowered my head and breathed greedily. The faint fragrance is refreshing.
Cantonese songs came from the TV next door:
How can you rest on the cold and warm.
How many autumns to turn back.
I searched all over but lost it.
I don't hope for it, but I have it in hand.
I get no.
I can't explain the mistakes.
As soon as I heard it, I changed it.
I don't know how to pursue it.
What to ask for in a lifetime. You can never see through it in confusion.
I didn't expect what I lost.
It's all mine.
The woman's singing voice is fragrant, but poignant and compassionate. I hurriedly went downstairs and turned on the TV, but it was Zhou Haimei. Mobile subtitles are played under the TV: Zhou Haimei has passed away, **The program team expressed condolences to his family. Hey!God is jealous, I wish the people of Iraq all the way.
Suddenly depressed, I couldn't help but sigh. I think of a lot of Cantonese songs:
The south wind is blowing, and our eyes are wide open in the barren land: "Late Autumn", "The Girl's Prayer", "First Love", "The Bell Must Be a Lover". You, in the past so many years, "Silly Girl", "Burning Love", "Why Do You Pretend Not to Know"?
We went south for life, for poetry, for distance, for a cup of "Forget Love Water".
You said, "When Love Comes to an End" and "Accommodation", only my "Iron Blood Pill Heart".
I said that "A Laugh in the Sea" is not as good as "Silence is Golden".
Sing, hum, those seven-tone and eight-tone Cantonese songs. Passionate or lingering. Suddenly, one day, in the song, you think of me, I think of you, even if you are a stranger, who will not tears ripple?