The military training in our university is leaving us again. What cannot be grasped is the old hand of time, and what is recalled is the forgotten good time in the ditch of hand marks. Along the way, we have taken away laughter and left behind emotions. We sang all the way, shining the sunshine on the playground and among the tree-lined avenues, putting a passion on our lips and eyes, letting the arc outline the era of splendor and innocence.