The wind quietly kissed the sunset.
When the clear river was seen, his face blushed.
The ancient town in the south of the Yangtze River, my hometown.
The scenery of ink and blue.
Ancient and long history.
I'm waiting for you here.
Waiting for you in the place where you played as a child.
Waiting for you at the school where you read aloud.
Waiting for you in the courtyard behind your house.
Knowing you would come, so I waited.
Waiting with joy just because of you.
Flowers bloom for one person, and wait for one person forever.
The past has been, the future is to come.
Whenever, no matter how long.
I'm just waiting for you. It's just you who can wait.
Waiting for a look back is what I have been looking for for a hundred years.
Waiting for a stop, pouring my life into prosperity.
He always turns sorrow into rain. Manjin Mountain. Flooded wilderness.
There is nowhere to ferry.
It's dusk and hell, and the shadows overlap in the eyes.
The past is a bleak scene. One cup is sweet, one cup is bitter.
hurt the passing years, laughing and crying for no reason.
Huang Liang always has to wake up from a dream, his voice is broken, and it is difficult to leave.
The glow is very romantic.
The breeze is gentle and gentle.
Blow your long hair.
Another spring landscape.
The air is filled with the scent of flowers.
and your enchanting breath.
Brush away the sorrows of the past.
Accumulate the joy of April and beyond.
Watch the purple swallow fly gracefully.
Between heaven and earth.
Sketch out the musical score of spring.
A thousand is a thousand thoughts that read you.
With the melody of spring welling up.
A shallow smile and a wisp of fragrance.
Written by Jean Jun Rimbaud.
Feng'er smiled.
The clouds floated gently.
Mo is blooming again.
You come gently.
A shallow smile.
A wisp of orchid fragrance.
I'm going to pick up the pen.
For you.
Draw you in. Soul.
Sing love songs. Gently chant poetry.
I'll see it with you. Morning and sunset.
The sun sets in the east. 
Put the acacia. Hidden in.
Autumn leaves. The wind blows.
and they covered the ground.
A. Another piece.
Gently float on.
On the water. It's like a boat.
In the river of love.
Set sail. 
The wind smells of autumn.
Semi-bitter. Half sweet.
I have your shadow in my eyes.
Half blurred. Semi-clear.
And so the white dew is frost.
Wait for the moonlight to be watered.
A memory. A quest.
Lonely, happy.
Whose life. Autumn twilight.
The alleys are smoky. Carrying a constant stream of thoughts.
If I don't meet you.
I probably don't understand.
What is love.
There will be no poetry and painting.
I'm from Mune.
People who are not good at words.
Not easily, and not daring.
Won't love.
You are the most special.
And the only one.
Stand silently.
This one. Waiting for the most beautiful meeting with you