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In spring, I am in this land, holding me tightly with my thin arms?

A dull plow. Roots and stones buried deep in the soil tripped over my plow, okay?

It takes me twice as much energy. I'm sweating, my limbs are shaking, and I can't wait to lie down at once?

Fall on the newly reclaimed soil. But I know I have no right to escape.

Give me life and give me responsibility at the same time. I don't need to ask why.

There is no need to think about whether there is a result. I shouldn't waste my time. Endless feeling?

Life is hard and you shouldn't feel sorry for yourself. Why did fate give it to me?

Such barren land. All I have to do is grit my teeth and fight with my head closed?

All my strength overwhelmed my plow. I never expect anyone to replace me.

Because in this world, everyone has a piece of land that must be cultivated by himself. ?

I sow with hope, and this hope will never exceed that of any wise man?

For humility. ?

Every day, I look at the land covered with my seeds and imagine that it will?

Germination, growth, flowering and fruiting. Like a pregnant mother, looking forward to it?

Holding his soon-to-be-born child. I know that if people can expect it, they can?

Go all out?

In summer, I stood on the ground because of drought, anxiously looking forward to the wind in the south.

Clouds with raindrops are blowing. How eager it is to wear, eager to wear! ?

Looking forward to, looking forward to, there is a wind blowing, but the gust is a little bigger. What?

Clouds with raindrops blew and landed on another land. I hate it. Hate me?

I can't jump into the sky at once, hold that cloud and beg it to give me a drop of rain. ?

What wishful thinking is that! I finally understand that this delusion is like trying to pull it out?

Take your hair and leave the earth. So, I am no longer delusional, I can only be in my lai?

In order to survive in this land, look for springs. ?

Without adequate preparation, I hurried on my way. Without suffering?

Say it. What I want to say is that I found the water source, only to find that I didn't bring a container for it. ?

How many times has it happened because of simple mind and overheating?

Avoidable painful mistakes. Really, that's not impossible. It really hurts?

The heart is here: it is not impossible. I stomp, I regret, I cry, I hate?

You must tear yourself to pieces. What's the use? Let's start over, so it's easy?

Our experiences cost twice as much as others to remember. Shouldn't you complain?

People, there is still one hour, let me behave well! ?

I watched helplessly, under the relentless hail, my place had just been grouted, far away.

Away from the mature ears of grain, swaying on the thin rice stalks, but not?

Forced to break free from it, but firmly locked its land, never tasted it?

What it's like to be mature? It's dead. ?

Once I opened my arms and tried to crush my whole body into a big screen.

Protecting my seedlings from wind, rain and hail ... too kind, will you change?

Become confused and ignorant. Bad luck can only eliminate the weak, even if it blocks this disaster?

Difficult, it will sink in another disaster. And the strong will stay and go on?

Your own way. ?

In autumn, I get the same harvest as others. Looking at my withered wheat, in my heart?

There is a kind of sour and bitter joy. But I don't think my grain is shriveled than others?

Depressed or discouraged. I hold them in my hands and stick them tightly to my heart, like this?

This is a brand-new self. ?

Rich and kind neighbors lament that I have gained little, but I am crazy?

Laugh loudly. In this laughter, I know that I have matured. I already have something special?

A measuring tool, it does not measure the grain, but only the feel. My neighbor doesn't know to harvest grain at the same time?

And life. I have loved, hated, laughed, cried and smelled?

If you think about it carefully, you will know that there are more sunny days than rainy days, and more gains than labor?

Work. As long as I live seriously and pay with a clear conscience. People will have no right to laugh at me?

I'm a fool who can't make ends meet, and I don't have to measure my worth by his yardstick.

Worth it. ?

In winter, in the dusk of life, is there nothing to do? ?

Just looking at the falling snowflakes and desert fields through the window. Or count the lights?

Western jackdaw in the West on the Bald Branch? No, I can also add some firewood to the stove.

Make the house warmer; I will look at myself calmly: why did I fail, me?

What did I miss, what did I owe others ... I hope only others owe me, which is the most?

In the days to come, you will feel much more relaxed! ?

It is impossible to correct the mistakes that have become the past. Impossible life?

Once again, the Four Seasons Hotel. The next four seasons will belong to another new life. ?

But I still have things to do, and I will record them all. No one?

When chatting, I might as well have a look to amuse myself. People who hate me can also gloat?

Curse: It serves you right! Smart people may say that this is unnecessary; Will a despicable person?

Carefully made a sword and cut me one by one. But I'm sure most people will?

I will understand. They will judge everything I have done fairly.

In the dusk of life, it won't be me who laments and feels lonely!