The noise of the city is immersed in the night, quietly accompany the moonlight. The September season, light autumn quietly, the wind curtain in the autumn, smell immediately filled the cabin, to shake off a window fragrance residual red. Suddenly spring flower, cleared, and floated down the Indus leaves. Chrysanthemum fragrance string into a knot, quietly in the ancient light out a parting. Near the window, curtain and dance with the wind, quietly listening to a sound, wash away the day tired body and trouble mood. For years I aimlessly wander in the empty city, look at the past the bustling, people rushed to, in the flowers with melancholy, the wandering in the rain center. Ask the world how many things, all vanity, sighed the world how much love, all is in the past. Memory of spring, withered lotus, in the years faded silhouette. At the moment, also can not remember how many sunset dusk, the number of the emptiness of the night, stay in there alone. Autumn, thin cool. The smell of your footsteps, in the flower sighs tea only, the green flower still let me in the spring. Looking at the cylinder fish chasing each other play, take one's ease in the limited space, without the rain fade the pain, quietly listening to the music, with the pace of time travel, be light of heart from care. I was in the wide world, in order to survive, but not life be light of heart from care like fish. Facing the modern life pressure, in the face of life, with the mask on alive, only at night alone in the time of their own, the bubble a pot of tea, listening to a sound the troubles in exile in the music, the melody to the window, falling in the time of quiet, dust in the forgotten space, not in retrospect.
