wishgo’s blog

It is young to dedicate to the young one
I always shell and open the sky inadvertently

Like shelling opening a peanut

Kite and dream emerge

But does not see at all the perfectly round one is sunny

Want to come now, it is cloudy

It was a thing of my own unexpectedly

Have overflowed the times of time in that water

Past events are soaked in the clock and watch

Rub, detail and fold

Why not wash clean either

For example, I draw out the wind from the dim light of night

Fold the paper plane. Throw away

Knock into the stranger's sight into pieces

The peach blossom is thrown to ache pinkly

At that time, I thought of a soft flute sound

Hang on the wall

Encourage oneself to be so melodious too

The youth is the horses, my clatter clatter leaves away too

No temperature again

Let I, burst forth with spend

Equal to
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Smart bird
Congeal the white paper and accumulate the black Chinese ink,
Moon in the window of pen in the hand.
Have pen to be difficult to express my unsettled heart,
Your feather like rosy clouds is like angry fire!

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Ah, the spirit's bird, you are reticent,
You do not consider the good fruit of delicacies in this cage worth doing.
Since I yearn for the life of the vast sky,
Well, fly away, the song of my soul
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