Life in the world is like a dream. In the dream, there are prosperous scenes, graceful light and shadow, or fallen trees and overgrown grass, or a dangerous building leaning against it. However, after waking up from the dream, the pillow felt slightly cool, and I realized that everything was false.
Like flowers and beautiful families, like the passing of time, but nothing can be done to the sky.
A talented man and a beautiful woman, one pair for the whole life, nothing more than mediocrity.
Is life like a dream, or is a dream like life?