A

Perhaps all this is the certainty of life

Perhaps all this is the arrangement of fate

In the long river of life

My years ran aground

My youth ran aground

My life was stranded

Stranded on the surging river—

My fragmented paddling figure

What a cruel stranding

What a cool anchor

I'm just starting my own voyage

I haven't seen the lights in the distance

I don't dare to envision my own design-

Isn't it still that prosperous

I don't dare to imagine my own dream of setting sail—

Isn't it still that crystalline

Thousands of prayers repeat one thing

- Don't let my hopes get cold over this

Maybe it's just a test

Perhaps this is just a profound exhortation

It is certainly a kind of courage to stop the waves

Reflections after being stranded Maybe—

It's another kind of cleverness

Youth is already very barren and thin

The mood is still full of content

Even though I can't see myself clearly

But I design with a passion for footsteps

Still churning like the tide of the sea

B

I can't hold back anymore—

The sudden release of long-sleepy emotions

And so I started

He began to ask himself hoarsely

What I am

Am I not a long-sleepy beast yearning for the mountains and forests

I'm not a wounded eagle yearning for the sky

Am I not a stumbled war horse yearning for the field

The blood on my body is still hot

Is the blood still flowing in my heart?

Is the blood of my life still rushing?

I yearn for the depth of my roots

I yearn for the prosperity of leaves

I yearn for the sturdiness of the branches

I yearn for life to grow into a big tree

In the lineage of the century

Shelter from the wind and rain with my luxuriation

Use my history to record the vicissitudes of life

Use my growth to pursue new prosperity

If one day -

I collapsed with a bang

My roots still yearn for the deep earth

My leaves still yearn for the sunshine of prosperity

My life is still yearning for stout prosperity

My soul will still blossom in the dirt beneath my feet

My dreams will still stretch out in the sun

My conviction will still hold my head high

I will also use the deepest voice of my life

Tell yourself softly –

The trajectory of life growth with

A story that takes place on the trajectory of life

Ironclad storyline

Stepping on my touch

Even if such a move will be profitable or losing

The post road erupted-

It's still my ethics of life

My blood is still boiling hot

My blood is still rushing

My blood is still rolling

My blood is still flowing

My Blood—

Stirring my steely hands

Grasp every point in your life

Fight every hurdle in your life

C

The power of the majestic roaring mountains and forests

The spirit of the eagle in the blue sky

This may be the form of life

It is also the content of life

I don't know that my life is a formality

Or is it more content-oriented

I only put my life on my own

The process of the golden years

If one day the years withered

Can I ask myself openly

Have you ever had a new prosperity in love?

Has there ever been a lush form

Whether there has ever been abundant content

Emotions about life

Maybe it can make me laugh

Maybe it can make my heart ache endlessly

D

If life is only more important than form

I can make my own journey-

The post road is full of bright lying flowers

But I still will

Frightened by the final harvest

That brutal withering

In the weathering day after day

Will be all the stories of my life

Erosion into fine dust

Dissipated in the vast wilderness

E

I can't—

Take the content that repeats itself every day

Because I can't find a new start for myself

In the rotation of the annual rings

Too many chapters of life

has been silently crushed

Look back again

only to find out -

Life withers away in such cruel day after day

F

Towards prosperity

Towards prosperity

I always want to shout to myself

Faint voice

Sometimes I can't even hear myself

I always wish I could burn something

I always want to be released

I'm always-

I'm always saddened by my own uncomeness

I don't know—

Whether the struggle of the mind is real

Whether your own trajectory is real

I really don't know-

Whether you have truly walked into the years of time

Whether you truly own your own history

In such a prosaic interpretation of life-

I was so poor that I didn't even have it myself

G

My soul

Quietly looking down from a high place—

I have a date with this encounter in my life

For the plot of the date

I had given too much hope

I always use Zheng Zheng's fantasy

Go decorate this short journey

But my barren courage

It is always in the middle of the reality of life

But once again, I shouted that I would set my life on fire

Ignited enough to shine my life brightly