Asked whether you know, do you know , the spring DiXiao for jun played all over the sky, the spring for jun of poetry and painting of the garden.

The afternoon of may, sunshine is mei. The light on, came to the river, on a wheel to cross the river, in between the ancient and modern

See moved against the hull, with its ups and downs in the shaking. Feet is rolling in the Yangtze river, the heart slightly feeling.

Daily up the first thing to do is open a computer, every day only know code word, code word, or a code word. But my heart is not s When the first sunshine in the room, my room is not so cold start. I don't use temperature of flourishing of the jade hand pull half mask, curtain, bright room thoroughly. But the heart is still bitter;

I use silence to conceal my sadness, only to find that the mask to reveal the more and more. The so-called love is not the end of time how many years ago, we now see the mountains have turned into around; Each time through the street hand in hand together, nine pieces of the palace of lattice in eyes constantly repeat, you can know that the world will you I spread rumors?

I again and again to escape, you indulge again and again.

Youth, in a world of my grandmother, was working hard in the fields, is to use her sweet milk feeding one child! Grandmother's youth, give grandpa, 15 years old, every one to his, the shouts of the rooster woke her up every day, early in the morning get up to do breakfast, burning flame, so imperceptibly Diamond Water, dilute water white porridge, ordinary day after she started her youth. Youth, in the early spring in the paddy field, bent down to skilled plug seedling; to more than one hundred catties of wood; Under the dim kerosene lamps, drive back and forth; On the loom Long thuck, rhythm adept weave of thick, warm quilt. In her youth, not the feudal thought, just beyond the progressive ideas of The Times. Six children, all books, all of good performance, to the teacher's egg, is her respect for teacher is love and care for children, but also the portrayal of her youth selfless dedication.

Youth, in the world of the mother, the continuation of the grandmother's hard work and plain living, not afraid of difficult. Share housework, help grandma planting pick dung, cattle feed pigs, chop wood, cook, study diligently, study weaving, hand sewing, look after the younger siblings. Grandmother's youth, adhere to in the wilds, mother's youth, and pursue a better life, rooted in the city fully furnished. On campus, and my mother read seriously, thrift, save money to send grandma to buy new clothes; Mother in sports so daring, brave, let in, as quick as lightning, running high jump to the enemy. Mother is the only college girls don't wear shoes, poor is not willing to buy a pair of rubber shoes. Mother put the sweat on the basketball court, artificial 3-pointers, her position precision, wonderful radian, attract boys pay homage; Passing layup, jump high, speed, Angle. Mother was sick with my youth, and many times in critical condition. Is more a mother's love for me, love for her, in her youth, is the vitality, is the power, is a dream, is to pursue, and I to her, is a continuation of her youth, her whole life, she is willing to raise me with her whole youth, protect and cultivate my complaint or regret for me to pay!

Youth, in my world, once colorful, dazzling bright and beautiful. Continued the mother love of sport and far afraid tired spirit of learning. Sports to me, is the most glorious scenery in my life, I was once proud capital, but also a part of my life. Learning from me, from childhood learning, good learn to ask to the youth, once was my self-esteem, my value, my hopes. In my youth, however, is more of a troubled, suffering. Such as flower, youth like dream, youth like an eagle flying high, but it is beautiful world of youth, my flowers withered; In crazy dream, I dream like bubbles, once brilliant, but so fragile; Before becoming a soar of the eagle, a heavy rain a knife a thunder lightning, drown me in the dark. Withered tree of my youth, my youth flower withered, the dream of my youth, forever. Long winter in life, I don't know, when can we meet in the spring, when the youth of open flowers silently in my heart. At this point, the mother has white hair and eyes began to aging, the more action is slow, for the sake of my youth, she used her whole life, the whole heart to protect me. Finally, at the moment I'm leaving my youth age, my heart and lost the passion of youth!

Ask whether you know, do you know,river goes to jun with pillow sleep.

Three "human speech the setting sun is the end of the world"

Hing to do late Dream beauty pro, when the setting sun end. The wind gradually clip a bit
cold, he put the coat, the small chair, sat in the yard.

The setting sun is reflected the sunset glow, with a sky. The birds
chirping, from time to time there is a deep artistic conception in the
wild wood Dream beauty pro.

Through the stone walls of the hollow out, whereas light
sprinkling on my face, my sights on the distant clump of trees, have
already can't see the original color, just with the blank to sway the
figure.

The glory of the sunset sunset, what a beautiful, what a fascinating
time. Just it is a dream, weak tea not cool, has the mid-levels.

"Hum... hum..." Loud horns pull up the story I look for the Yangtze
river. The boat Dream beauty pro ! Came to the bow, the split suffused with white flowers,
waves, and was rushed to the distance, left several piles of foam, and
then slowly disappear.

Look, jiang, jiang for yellow, green, sky is blue
white, that is the snow mountain glaciers at the end of a line. Around
the middle, forever is the sky and water, but left countless stories,
the legend of the road is endless. Against the wind, tread on the wave,
can't help reveal a few words of ancient poetry: a tender feelings "day
by day, have you noticed, drink the Yangtze river water", a heroic "the
great river east to go to, the wave depleted, eternal man"...

Looked at the sparkling waves, lost in my eyes, take away my thoughts.
Is that take a heroic posture of zhou yu, chibi war that blew jun; Is
that pride yun guan yu, have lost jingzhou flopped; Is the life the
indignation of the nanjing massacre, three hundred thousand red river;
Is the not afraid of life and death of revolutionary martyrs, million
mighty armies of defending the motherland across great river...

"Hum... hum..." This flute I dancing thoughts will pull back. As if,
after one thousand, the taste, look at all the life and death, all
everything is interpreted in the silent river.