I wrote past

Do not know, you are with the ray of spring disappeared in the depths of the spring or autumn with a death like autumn in the end?
A deep share of the loss of heart, so I started looking at the fragrance of spring grass your feet, look at the Qiuchan scream in your footsteps, even if in a dream, do not have to stop searching, searching.
Over and over again you have to go through the small road. Remember, you always like to smile against roadside flowers - you say that you pay tribute to each other! Then look at these flowers never sad, actually feel, your smile is so similar!
You wish to treasure box, I gently blow off the top left of the blot years, but has been unable to open it! That collection of dream collection of blessing, if he has been yellow, it has been years of wet, crumple it! There are never willing to wear a rocket over the bow ... ...
Piled set down all the busy side, quietly leaning on the window, with the afternoon to watch the clouds of heaven. Changes in this unpredictable, the past can no longer find joy - only scattered clouds, Yun Ju, Yun Ju scattered clouds, leaving only heard lament!
I know that you are really gone, you will never come back!
However, I have not had time to your stay, you have not yet had time to bid farewell to ah! You just go quietly!
Perhaps ... ...
You are most like to laugh, and bid farewell to the scene, always so desolately Cancan; you do not know sadness, but also not far from the face of sorrow to see others.
Retain, Yun Yan from, streams dry surplus, the poet had to stay over. Can spring back will still go, autumn is still to come. Retention, reaching the moment, sadly falling petals, fingers, is across the autumn.
Sorrow, grief is more like a cream chrysanthemums decorated the solitude of the autumn cold is not only for the tales of a bleak winter to autumn.
Wind chimes gently brushed the dust, it would be hanging in the window.
When the wind blows, knocked it past the laughter.