Red Leaf Plum

Is that the smile beside the blue bricks and tiles, the tenderness of retreating to the majestic battlefield, or the youthfulness of riding a bicycle in the sycamore tree? We look back on the years that we have never retreated, silently remembering that tears and pain are just yesterday; lovers run close to the unreachable wall, maybe the end is the beauty they longed for. Looking over the past hundred years, who has not lamented at fate; looking across the past and present, who has not had an obsession that is impossible to achieve? Passed away like a man, I only regret that the unresolved love was wasted. It's like waking up from a dream, looking back to that night when the falling stars were flying, and you and I were still the first to meet.