The diary

 I described each season when spring is only half as stormy and windy.  Because at this time not only these are running, but also the novelty of the leaves and shoots is seen.  A person is not only sad but also happy and joyful.  If rainy is all bout rain, why am I drenched in sweat?  At this time  It's sweet because it's all there.  Why is it foggy in summer?  It is angry or special. 

 Even in the middle of the blue sky in autumn, pieces of clouds are sitting on the horizon, but this time it is not only happiness.  The beauty of the winter frosts and the beauty of the snows are also the most difficult condition of the bare trees.  The humidity of the breath, the high silence of the warm anticipation of the cold on the leaves. Every natural trait in a person's life is different by nature.  If I'm not the weather, it's not a lie. Being weather is so difficult.  

Someone encourages me to say it like this, it's just that it's not all-weather, it's just a handful of all-you-can-be a handful of all time, you're my sad taste season, where I hold you like tears in my eyes and your light paper love  It has fallen into my heart like a fragrant flower that comes flying in every season, like a bird that spreads its wings.  The loving melody of my soul remained like this, becoming the silent shadow of the full moon shadows of you and me, which I have been able to save the light like the caterpillars save their lightening for the very shady night.

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