A slap in the autumn, a little bit of bananas, and three more after the dream. Since I was young and small, I struggled outside and only returned to my hometown. At night, my hometown would be in my heart. When the boss returned, I experienced thousands of sails. I hope that I am also a young man.
When I was young, my homesickness was a small stamp. At my head, my mother was there. When I grew up, my homesickness was a narrow ticket. I was here, and the bride was there. The wandering go out, in the distance, cares about the water of the mountain in the hometown. It is as quiet and clear as a painting. Like in front of the eyes, the heart can feel their temperature, the feelings of the near home, and the heart. This thick nostalgia is the love of my hometown, the affection of my heart, I miss the village that records my babble to enter the school, where my childhood life is recorded. One day, I left this simple home and went to the outside world to experience thousands of sails. I know that we all have this experience. In the distance, we will write a song without words to the homesickness. A poem without rhyme is like a Da Vinci code that only one can solve. It is unique.
My hometown, the place I am familiar with, although the mountains are not beautiful, the water is not beautiful, the flowers are not red grass, but in my heart there is the genus of Liangtian Meichi mulberry, food outside the Taoyuan. Lao She has been to Paris and lived in London. He has always been chanted in Beijing, and that is where he grew up. I don’t have the same writings as Lao She, and I use the black and white characters to describe the homesickness, but my homesickness is my most sincere emotion. I don’t think it is different from Lao She. No matter when, where and how life is, the homesickness is the most beautiful and cleanest landscape in the heart. Although I have not returned to my hometown, I will never forget my hometown. In a hometown, because of something, an item, a piece of music, or a local accent that I hear, these will evoke my homesickness because it is deep. Engraved in my heart.
One called a bowel, and Sanchun March recalled Sanba. Looking down on my hometown in the month, how many nights I look up at the sky, looking at each star, and thinking about whether the night sky of my hometown is like this, it is really eye-catching and heart-pleasing. In the daytime, the songs must be drunk, and the youth is accompanied by the hometown. In the days of other people, I am crying alone, one is sad, one is sad… But when I think of my hometown, my heart will not be so cold, I will face the world bravely, holding a small boat in the river, Shaking, crossing the obstacles, finally I can step on the golden land, look at the path of returning home, in the direction of my heart, quietly walked to my hometown, I returned!
My hometown of mysterious dreams! I am back in your arms, feel your breath, and reunite with you on a sunny day. Although I have returned thousands of sails, I am also your teenager.