1一朵花开进脑子里。我伸出一千只手,也无法拔出。任它生根,任它结果吗?苏格拉底的麦苗在哪儿?高傲和卑鄙,是同一个风筝。或许,相思只是一个顽皮的木偶。木偶在风中,在雨里。木偶正张开嘴,嘻嘻哈哈地笑我。我终于在风雨中倒下。风在风中,雨在雨里。我也成了风雨。2万千的柔情,在怀抱中散开。每一条柳枝,都是舒放的筋脉,涌动着朵朵浪花。 A flower in my head I held out a thousand hands and could not pull it out. Let it take root, let it be the result? Where is the wheat seed of Socrates? Pride and despicable, is the same kite. Perhaps, Acacia is just a naughty puppet. Puppet in the wind, in the rain. Puppets are opening their mouth, laughing and laughing at me. I finally fell in the storm. The wind is in the wind, the rain is in the rain. I have become a storm. 2 million tenderness, diffused in arms. Each willow branches, are Shu relaxation tendons, surging with blossoming waves.