The places I dreamed of left good memories,

Like flowing water that drowns the dust of the years,

It's joy and sorrow,

It is impossible to tell the age of dreams.

Occasional memories in the prosperous years,

The calendar records the traces of growth,

Love is in the past, and not love is in the past,

Just a mark in the window of the heart,

A meteor floated in the sky of dreams,

Close the door full of sorrow,

Everything is back to spring.

When I woke up from my dream, I felt that I had opened that door,

A door full of nostalgia.

Chapter 055 of "Ma Ping'an Poems": Vernacular poems Memories of childhood are being hit by hand, please wait a moment,

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