夏日手握着花朵,在夏日里,会结出果实。云彩匆忙,它经历的每一个地方,无边无际,都像是低音区向高音区荡漾的过程。没有人知道,夏日是多情的诗人,它在时间的背面抒写,把一个个多愁善感的文字反复地使用。我相信那是个炸雷般的秘密,我尊他为神。夏日之下,济济一堂。风来风去,风是一种方向。避开了虚无,夏日不再被孤立。大地多了几丝褶皱,夏日不再翻动,它的速度,慢到虚假。 Hand holding flowers in summer, in the summer, will bear fruit. Clouds hurry, it goes through every part of the endless, like the bass area to the treble area of ​​the process of rippling. No one knows that the summer is a passionate poet, describing it on the reverse of time, repeatedly using sentimental words. I believe it is a thunderbolt secret, I respect him as God. Under summer, come together. The wind is coming, the wind is a direction. Avoid the nothingness, the summer is no longer isolated. A few more folds of the earth, the summer no longer flip, it’s speed, slow to false.