|
The beauty of winter is not a variety of ice, frost and snow, fog pine, wax mountains But the most warm sunshine in the cold time and space. Just as true civilization can not always be the same, Nor can it be a scene of the collapse of prosody and music without any bottom line, But a garden full of flowers and a hundred schools of thought contending. In the days to come, Together and cherish.  |
|
|
