From now on, I will no longer look up at the blue sky or look down at the white water. I will only watch my steps carefully. I will step on the soil and leave deep footprints!

Mr. Zhu Ziqing's long poem "Destruction"

The swallows have gone, but they will come again; the willows have withered, but they will bloom again; the peach blossoms have faded, but they will bloom again. . But tell me, wise one, why are our days gone forever? ——Someone stole them: who is that? Where is it hidden? It's just that they escaped on their own: where are they now?

"Hurry" by Mr. Zhu Ziqing

When you wash your hands, the days pass through the water box; when you eat, the days pass by the rice bowl. I can feel his haste now, so I reach out my hands to hold him back, but he keeps flowing past my withholding hands. In the evening, as I lie in bed, he will stride over my body and past my feet in his agile way. Fly away. When I open my eyes and see the sun again, another day has slipped away. I hid my face and sighed. But the shadow of the new days began to flash through the sigh again.

"Hurry" by Mr. Zhu Ziqing