We have been to every place, we stop to each and every one of the premises and always stay only for a moment, a jug of wine, drunk may be one person, wake up, the increasingly clear dream of homesickness, so pain, never. The blue sky over the sea, blackwater held a boat . Those who can't see the distant mountains, all in support of you and I go on the lights, the hustle and bustle of the seagull, always with us. Those who don't go back to hometown of scholar's four years, into the bow of a jug of wine, with our hair, a drunken thousand sorrow. Stand in April's stern, jiangnan misty rain, walking in the waves, watching the seagulls pass in the trough of the wave in the wind and waves. Back packers, you are a visitor, standing in the bow, you like the seagull, only tired , will think of the way home, feebly, gulls will at some point, bumped into the sea, a return to the bosom of the sea, to return to the brave. We wander, forever is a kind of posture, we drift, is always a romantic, the hometown of the original landscape, ups and downs, still long, still just now we no longer return not to go, can only be on the road, the mountain the water, the beautiful girl in the dream, in the misty rain of chiang-nan, see not clear, fuzzy red makeup. We choose to migrate, but is exile and soul we were forced to banish, because somehow it had also set. Every castle peak in the world, there is no absolute don't change forever ; Every river, there is no absolute the same during the spring and autumn. The dream home, already dental laboratories in time; The real home, just round full moon, a period of lanes, dialectal greetings.
