Cicada

The blue sky is still high, and the cicada is still lying there, basking in the sun... The young man will have his mountains and seas, his waves, his poems and the distance. May my heart be soft and sweet, may you and I be in the cold wood and spring flowers, may my broken thoughts finally become peaceful year after year. Beauty grows old easily, green hills are rare Those who attend the meeting are determined to leave, praying for one period Let you and I meet again in the world! This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.