If you ask what degree you think, the feelings are still linked.

The past is floating in the sea, and the old shadow is in the dream.

I don't care about the present industry, and I want to connect with the past.

The white horse is fast, and half a year has passed in the blink of an eye.

It's been nearly June, and the skills are still mysterious.

I don't expect to have no talent, and I want to go to no boat.

Sitting alone outside the back door, I saw Bai Lan withered.

I don't know what to do.

The sound of the country car passed, and I couldn't get on it alone.

"Poems in the Sea of Dust, Lonely Hong Man's Pen" and "If You Ask What Degree of Thought" are being typed by hand, please wait for a while,

Once the content is updated, please refresh the page again to get the latest updates!