"The Wind Sweeps the Yellow Dust------ the Twilight Turns the Clothes, and the Slight Heart Floats in the World"

In the late spring of March, the mournful wind rises, and the clouds cover the sun like crying.

The loess is like sand and wind, and the twilight is heavy.

The red dust is bursting, the trees are swaying, and the dead leaves are rustling on the ground.

But the fallen leaves don't understand love, but the wind blows the leaves.

The old place wandered again and again, and it was often here in the past.

The red dust of the leaves rises like the wind, looking back and turning into invisible.

Who has a lot of heart, and who knows the bitter memories.

The past is surging with the wind, just because the heart is not strange to the wind.

Heaven and earth have been vast since ancient times, and they are so vast and boundless.

Looking at the sky every year, the sea of clouds rolls and the fog is vast.

Sighing that the calamity is higher than the sky, and I don't know how to understand it when I look at it from afar.

The micro-heart floating world is small, and it must be like an ant looking at the dust.

23 March 2016

"Zisheng Anthology" is swept by the yellow dust, and the twilight is in the middle of the hand, please wait a while,

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