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本帖最后由 独舞の芸儿 于 2011-12-26 10:23 编辑
I 'm really just a cloud, the past will always come, self-inflicted situation, clean up the mess yourself, life is tired, perhaps feeling the last time I wrote the text, and 28 years old, or muddle, I have incoherent , and write any text, and all change is good does not make sense. Is negative it is negative I am, just how to speak, I have vanished.
Feel bad to bottom, the lowest ever. . . . . .
Gently I go,
As I gently come; Cambridge
I gently waved,
Unless the clouds away to the west.
That river of gold willow,
Sunset of the bride,
Shimmering in the brilliant film,
Waves in my heart.
Nymphoides on the green ooze,
Oily swagger in the bottom;
Kang River in gentle waves,
I am willing to do a water plant!
That elm shade under a pool,
Not the springs, the sky rainbow;
Crumbled in the floating algae, the
Sediment of a rainbow-like dream.
Dream? Hold a long pole,
Green grass at the more diffuse traced,
Star boat fully loaded,
Star in the gorgeous sing.
But I can not sing,
Quietly is a parting farewell;
Much idle for my silence,
Silence is Cambridge tonight!
I walked quietly,
As I quietly come;
I wave of the sleeves,
Does not take a cloud.
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发表于 2011-12-26 09:38:41
