I know that migratory birds will go south before winter comes. I am willing to look at your retreating back in the bleak autumn. When late spring comes to summer, I will try my best to walk towards you and tell you that the snow in winter is as beautiful as pear blossoms.
You are a migratory bird and I am a migratory bird
Intention: Flying ten thousand miles in the cold wind, the sun takes the birds back to summer, walking through the four seasons together