Although there is no butterfly fluttering style, there are strings like nature;

Although there is no dragonfly to point to the water, there is the lingering dew of the sky;

Although there is no surprise of Madara, there is a spectacle of leaping over the heavenly tree.

Seven years of dormancy in the dirt was exchanged for seven days of splendor in July.

"Cicada", "Cicada", you are born to be stoic, although only for the sake of prosperity day and night.

When the harbinger of midsummer opens her voice, revealing that you are about to appear, transformed and reborn, transformed into a summer elf, you are so bright and bright, and you are so heartfelt for the middle of summer.

When the summer night passes and the early autumn grows thicker, you are silent, gradually swaying, and begin to follow the fluttering dead leaves, blending into the land together, turning into the first meeting and acquaintance, inheriting the life of eternal reincarnation. "Cicada", "Cicada", you deserve to die, you are such pathetic.

Once you were with you every year, now you are scattered indefinitely.

You used to sleep every year, but now you have insomnia.

You used to call every year, but now your voice is far away.

"Cicada", "Cicada", where have you been?

In the middle of summer, the cockroaches began to sing, but I could vaguely hear that they were hoarse and exhausted, and they were crying out weakly, and they too would die.

"Cicada", "Cicada", where have you been?

When you creep out of the cave, you will be greeted not by the chosen lush greenery, but by the hot flashlights of the people, who have been shining under the trees all night and night, looking for you.

From then on, you ran to people's tables, ran to people's stomachs, you can no longer become a brave man and poet who runs to the branches to sing, and you can no longer complete the mission of passing on future generations, you begin to have the same absurd fate as water flies, tadpoles, swimming fish, and butterflies.

"Cicada", "Cicada", where have you been?

People, people, I went to perdition.

People, people, I went to perdition...

"I Am the Emperor of Freedom" 16, where is the "cicada" is hitting in the hand, please wait a moment,

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