Write a Tibetan poem with "Happy Birthday Third Brother"

I often sigh for the withering of a leaf, I often marvel at the moment when butterflies are flying, and I often wander and toss about for a girl in a crowd at midnight. That spring encounter, that moonlight, that night care. With the dream of chasing, in the warm sunshine, the memory shows the original love. As the years go by, dandelions fly by, which can only be hidden in the dream, engraved in the heart, and dare not let more people know.

when spring comes and summer goes, the lights turn on and off. How many times, in the vast sea of people, lost myself. How many times, in a strange land, stroking the dry soul. Coming and going at the crossroads, I met countless passers-by, countless scenery, flying clouds and birds, and fragrant falling flowers. And myself, wandering all over the place, lonely figure, the breeze blowing through the vicissitudes of face, the world, where to pick up comfort, where to find the tears of acacia, where to find the story in my dream. That beautiful first love, that young and innocent smile, that gives people a warm farewell, that is full of strength and encouragement. Through the spring, through the heat, through the late autumn, in Yuan Ye in winter, think about the past, stroll through the present, and mention that once met again in the future diary.

how many dreams I had, I couldn't stop the footsteps of the years. That year, we were young, running under a blue sky with the same middle school and Chinese teacher, but you have your direction and I have my dreams. My classroom is next to your class. Every time after school, you will quietly look at our classroom and smile at me. Every time you are thirsty, you will bring me a bottle of Amon Spring. But I am so shy that I can only pretend to look at the book with my head down and dare not look at your face. Because you are the goddess in my heart, just like the ice in my hand. If I look at you one more time, I am afraid that it will melt in an instant, and there will be no trace in an instant.

that year, we went to the same university, and we were in the same playground for military training, bathing in the sunshine, walking in the drizzle, smelling the birds and feeling the changes of the four seasons. I stood right behind you, but you didn't find my concern. Countless coincidences, endless love, I finally know your mind, and you have left a place for me in your heart, but I am silent, and I still smile at you, making you feel ashamed and sad for a long time.

That year, the campus was full of spring, and we traveled together, climbed to the top of the mountain, and the place closest to our dreams, you said that you liked me, too. Sitting in the sunset, overlooking everything, the sky, plains and streams were all full of vitality, all flying with my excited heart. However, something happened in your family, and you had to go back and deal with it. Once you went, you never came back to campus, because you were the boss of the family. Later, I married a stranger, leaving me alone, wandering around the empty campus, missing and caring, and my first love, after slipping away with the stream, could never find your shadow. Those beautiful, those dreams in the sunset can only be hidden in dreams and engraved in the heart.

The sea I once owned, the love I dared not say, and the scenery I accidentally missed. Such as clouds drifting, there are aestheticism, reluctance and concern. That wisp of spring neon, quietly floating in my heart. The small palm is full of the past events of spring flowers and autumn moon, filled with traces of years, but it can no longer cover up the colorful and shy love affair, and it churns in the small heart. Those dense worries, which are basked in the sun, gaze at the misty years, once brushed shoulders, talked in autumn and laughed in winter, are just thousands of years of attachment, drifting with the tide and meeting and settling down.

I often dream that I am smiling in the harbor of time, laughing at my ignorance, laughing at the helplessness of life and laughing at the waste of time. Staring at the fate that once existed, the afternoon with fingers clasped, counting the nights of the stars, now, on the paper, I miss it again and have a taste; Worry again, intoxicating. At that time, two ignorant hearts could actually intersect. You like poetry, I like prose; You like traveling, and I like photography. Now, the photos are still there, the camera is still there, and you are a wife.

seasonal changes, the milky way star shift. I once thought about finding a spray to flow for you, a bright moon to delight you, a cloud to float for you, and an album to paint you. Those dreams lit with tears, memories gone with water, stir the beautiful melody that sinks in the bottom of my heart. Drinking the cup of missing, sitting on the melancholy path, that eternal love, after meeting, is hidden in the dream.

I was worried about the fate of my life, and I was put down for the footsteps of a spring. The back is full of dazzling warmth, accompanied by the youthful love. In the river of life, I look up the encyclopedia, use that pen, take paper and ink, carve it like a poem, hide it in my dream, and never forget it.