Three tracks tears

williauvn

solitary Yannan Fei. Lai Lai Xiao Feng. Chill autumn air.

jealously guarding its lone window. Wang leaves withered. Stirring strings.

lost heaven. Yela body shoulder. Tears.

- falling in the wind in the first elegy

maple leaves die, the pursuit of the wind, or trees not retain?

standing on the vast land, watching the falling maple tree, watching the shimmering neon streets, watching the autumn chill. My face, but also restore ferocious.

migratory birds passing from the sky toward the south; toward warm; towards survival; towards hope. Fly away! Leaving only a few times, sounding cut through the empty sky! I sadly it!

sun on my face, tickling. Also according to the Maple Leaf on the ground has withered, the map is so red, so miserable, they are so calm!

I was a melancholy child. Is a shameful squandering of youth and life faded. It is the kind of long and short burst or a moment. Fill the gaps in my body is invisible. I always face the same age children, speechless. Because I know I like them, the youth, I also squandered. But, I am mildly compared to splurge too! In my opinion, every leaf on the ground, is a burst blood, body, and fight the urging of the wind, the wandering of the ground quietly, peacefully asleep. Tolerance of each leaf in a story are, like every child, just being a dream ice cold autumn wind wings, no one will know, and no one to care, a child standing on the vast grassland, is how quietly looking at the sky, and shed tears with maple-like colors.

Lone Wild Goose wandering looking at the sky. My heart is like being swallowed by something in general. Its wings in the air, but lost. Lone Wild Goose, whine in the sky was, but still want to fly away towards the south, and! But it is more lonely and helpless too! At this point, my neck is sour. Tired, tired cried. Perhaps for themselves as well as to Lone Wild Goose.

maple leaf blowing in the sky [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], flying away. Fell on my shoulders, but also falls on the shoulders of the wind. Life is so fragile, and always in a flash, and I was instantly disappear off the maple, cut through the pupil. Good things always in an instant to get experience.

child, I was a child. A reality for the ordinary child. May be one members.

a bent waist is the dream, the first child was still looking at the sky!

a real hit was mixed in the head, the hearts of the children still illusions!

a society corrupted by the heart, the body still Jianlang growing child!

I was a happy child, see the floor drop-shop red Maple Leaf. I will also run in them, let the wind to the ears, I feel happy, because they die does not mean that a maple leaf to lose the maple, it will not lose the autumn.

I often put under the maple leaf litter in general is more complete with the Let's face it years to remember, to realize its dream to reality.

let it get eternal life!

neon street, Maple Leaf die, Lone Wild Goose's lament, the following autumn. Everything is a dream, all life. Lone Wild Goose

sky passing, a few pieces taken off the Maple Leaf. With autumn leaves, carrying, flying! Everything is the eternal moment!

sangrakwol

dark night, hazy months. Acacia concentration

moon, moonset quiet silent.

dead of night cooking sake, do not stay at the Riverside.

worry, worry, worry!

completely on top!

lonely night.

I sat quietly on the grass along the river, the wind blew quietly, very quiet!

I stared at the body like everything here, all the sounds!

I like quiet, so I chose here. One does not know where the river leading to a bridge made unknown, it is classical. This bridge is the other end of the other side of the head, the other end of the bridge is that the head start. I came across this bridge, because this first of endless falling maple, I like it!

the wind is up! Blowing my hair, playing on my face, tickling. Shook his head and shoved me, to make people look like sober.

ho month when the air, but in my eyes look so dim. In the twilight it is so bright. Stabbed me in the pupil, tearing everything good in my eyes, tears like gazing at a

moonlight in the river, and a more hazy months should be as dark eyes.

dark months, the child's eyes in a dismal understanding should be like this!

tail, they watch a circle of ripples. Plants in the river edge of the river, clinging to struggle, and that part of the money for the journey forward in the water. My thoughts tonight. Miscellaneous, miscellaneous, miscellaneous! Disorder, chaos, chaos! Worry, worry, worry!

looked at Maple Leaf die, looking at the coldest air to see who swing the hay, thinking about his homeland's countryside, thinking about the helplessness of dream, think real blast . Not help some sad.

crossing the pulp is still months off, wave heart swing, silent coldest month.

melancholy melancholy people always see things, things that always makes melancholy melancholy people to see.

maybe I try to avoid something. I, and what is to follow? Touched my chest, let cool autumn swab to the face, are a bit sober. I unconsciously closed his eyes, the dark will eat my entire system, chewing the flesh of my spirit, violent nausea that makes the blood, into the eternal obsession with a pool of blood unconscious. Dark erosion of my heart, no purpose in the blind, Dong Benxi, when suddenly, I feel confused and small, helpless ... ...

late at night, plan on to the West in a lot, he is also trying to avoid it? Escape reality?

moonset silent, sleepy suddenly began to get up, dust to make dust, I will continue to live.

my wild laughter, the fleeting at first glance, the flying phase Ming [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], seemingly also laugh. Laughter is a frivolous world, laugh it a drop-Feng Diao dance, laugh it is a young and ignorant ... ...

river remains the same, the bridge remains the same, down Maple remains the same, but only sangrakwol The late change.

blink of an eye across the water ride, the night wind screen over the floor red.

>

wind blows snow and yellow Yela the. Days Piao, the wild goose belongs.

I went through, leaving traces of the. He has gone, the dream had come home.

I cried out, sadly the day. The snow has stopped, snow Ke full.

wind came off the white out. I laughed, and then dark.

- the pain had been blown off the white snow ridden memory

season!

aroma of wind mixed with snow, fly away, always in the moment, and over, again under the endless falling snow ... ...

I always like reading while walking, the foot always I love it.

I always go through a public round the corner, where it is quiet. There is only one bench, one doubled up the street and a gloomy forest, another addition to the snow or the snow, and occasionally there are small groups of people through it, always with the branch on both sides of the cold wind hit the Under the endless falling snow.

Whenever I come here, he will sit on the bench, looked up and caught the snow fell on my face [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], unbridled, eyebrows, and very comfortable. I, in such a person, a passer, it can be said to be a follower of dreams.

He is a man in his early forties, clothes are always worn. He always stood on street corners, in the flying snow in his hands playing the Sax, as if his body is only a light Sax only.

he is a nobody who knows the identity and occupation, and even his name is unknown, but just know that he blew out the sound is always so vicissitudes Sax and sorrow, people have lost endless sad.

When music is playing, who always stopped in twos and threes, Ga the first audio-visual, which he closed his eyes, slowly shaking with the rhythm, the cold winds blow, blowing his coat, he was very thin, This is my true feelings to his best.

have snow, but he has been buried in the hearts of the dream.

I have always sat on a bench, holding hands and knees, so listen up.

him, disheveled hair, and they seem to clamp off a few weeks without a beard, shaking his body, blowing this way.

Lie cold wind struck again, blowing snow did not fall, rolled forward, flying the ... .... Fall into the endless endless white.

all this, they seem to be my true nightmare.

and he, for a long time did not come.

wind, the cold, I could not help hold the knees.

a passing dream, the dream of followers. He was gone, I still, every day go bench next to a brief perching. Wind and the trees

I looked up in the snow in the sky, Sax sounded again ... ...

me with a dark fantasy children.

cold locked in my smile.

cold, cold, cold!

Postscript

down Maple, snow, sangrakwol, looks does not mean going to cry, and then the three paper, written by a feeling when the kids and mood. Not only adults have trouble and helplessness. Children also have a previous child can not be compared with today's kids. Different ways of thinking, the language is different, times have changed. As a small A was: alive alive dead, but I will live very exciting!

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