"There must be injustice and sadness in the world, but through verse, grievance and sadness can be converted." "Chiang Hsun once said so. Reading poetry is like a process of digesting sadness, leaving a monologue for life, every week this time, I long for you to leave a time for yourself, the absence of the reality of the turmoil, women fans only read poems for you.

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Some people are never going to talk to him.
Some people just say something.
Some people may have more than some.
Others are very few and very few
Maybe only one.
Can say many many
That's a lot to say and say and say
Then say something and never say it again.
More than a few more than just a few more
That will never be said.
Always always
Always never.
All this
Why don't you say it?
All this
Why don't you say it?

--speaking class Xiayu

Some people never understand the words, better not to say.

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Young is
The Circus of Love
The mouse and the pumpkin lined up
The story of first love is like a speck of dust in the blink of an eye for your performance
Even the Spanish flies are brave enough to jump in the ring of fire for you.
Young is
The days when the feet fell on the rings
Every love that flies in the air
Yes, well, it's so embarrassing.
Young is
When you whistle, you jump down in your bathing suit.
Clap your hands and pull you out of the other hat.
Often bowing to greet the life of the hundred of you audience
I don't want to love you
The somersault of a lifetime

--Love circus whales to the sea

Sometimes we all, miss that funny love.

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About the pouring parting
The rules of falling leaves and light fading in the streets
Even though I keep chasing the past
I never met you again.
You're one of those strong winds.
My soul is attached to it.
is so easy to scatter

You are the kind of stronger wind whales to the sea

you are the kind of stronger wind, just a hurried transit

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Dusk, the rain is stopped, the apartment
Between the apartment and the sky could not turn
Sometimes I read your letters in front of the little window
The letter describes the distant climate, just sit down in summer
10 o'clock it was dark, higher than the old bell tower blue
At work, the hair on the arm is quiet.
Like a golden deer.

"There are five days ..." You said on the phone.
Hear the whole world for us
The day is a book
Beautiful book.

I'll know your bike.
The balcony where you read when the sky is warm.
Like you expected, hate those books on the Cultural Revolution.
For too symbolic of the Chinese decoration
Held in doubt. But I will remember
Every corner of your house
Because you're always following this route.
Get out of there, come to six o'clock.
The old summer of thunder and rain
The sea lives next to me.

and whisper you in the dream
Let the time carry, the long-range train
A nebula down the front

--〈 Travel Rehearsal Yang Jia

That is our love preview, let me plan a cleverness love.

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Even the so-called 靑 spring
The so-called youth
have been depleted by us.
I still remember
A love letter with a very cautious and rough draft
An Exchange diary written in pencil
The whole summer that we've been hanging away
Singing songs on the road

The rest of my life
I will brush up on these
Like a sucking-feed of the remaining honey alive

--〈 Untitled Lin Wanyu

the summer of the memory of the youth is endless