Whether can let me through the time gap to see flowers, so warm, and fallen flowers.

The world of mortals Momo madadayo smoke from kitchen chimneys, whether can find such a tree, let my soul have to rely on the harbour?

a

Memory of my childhood in my hometown that a large a large green wood.

Wearing a white dress, in summer, cicadas always tirelessly hoarse throat a never-ending cried, there is a
eeze through, blowing leaves with using voice, reminded me countless times of the whisper of the sea. I see the clouds floating in the sky, like a mass of a mass of cotton candy. Lay on the grass, watching the clouds YouYouRan ran hard, there are the same age boys laughing voice in the distance.

At that time, there were not many of the same age in the village girl, I dont want to go to play with clay, is not willing to give their white Skirt taken on the foul, so often a person hiding in teh near the village. The bird with the world the most beautiful voice, tender and green grass there, in those days and song and line.

In the morning, theres always a tangle twine around the fog, the green trees often is like concealed in the line of sight. I always thought when teh though a bit dark, but there is a new stimulation. So often while grandma got up and took to the streets to buy food secretly run to here, also specially in those ancient trees on an immature handwriting. With light green leaves fragrance in the humid air, under the sway of the pores of whole body seems to be in the morning on it, beside the green trees stretching their beautiful bosom. But still have a little fragrance floating on the face, is a kind of unknown wild flowers. I dont know what kind of flowers, it seems very tacky, ShiXie thick red, like a rolling the world of mortals, I always dont like that color, but its very strange, a seemingly so tacky flowers would even dense so a thrilling of flowers. Young at the time, etc. I really want to one day you want to ask about the origin of the flower, it has languished. That kind of tacky and prosperous or doomed to die, when grandma said to me, it went to heaven.

Whether in heaven will have eternal fragrance forever do not come loose? Some say every flower has a belong to the spirit of its flowers, the flowers fade, elves will fly to heaven, and now I have not believed, but was still dream of age, will think of a lot of mess of things. In heaven, for example, whether also to have a car to car, flowers for?

The second

Memory of the verdant green forest seems to always be like that it is clean and relaxed, sometimes I always forget the time, so a gaudy color flower blossom once so fragrance. Only sigh when young.

Yes, because young, so its been a lot of things are not clear. Considered as vapor blurs the handwriting, will no longer find back to the original shape how glorious magnificent. At that time is like the sky, is not only to see that a mass of a mass of white clouds, also see the floating cloud in the sky. Blue transparent clear that day, at that time, the smile fades in color never, in gear called time out so much time on 4 pieces of the light. Sunlight while the cloud, sprinkle in the face, let me countless times thought of my mothers touch, her dry palm covered my eyes, almost cant see any darkness I also can feel her strong love. Afternoon, lazily lie on the grass, with the neighborhood kids playing soccer ran joyful laughter, like that sweet smile drifted to the far, far away, splashing and reply.

I was very want to have a flower, look at that pink petals floating in the air of a moving melody, Zhang Yangcheng beautiful bosom, even if it is a dream, I will still feel the smile not pull to open. Floating light skip, warm meaning. On the other side of the setting sun is on the horizon shaky, but will still be my white skirt with multicolored colour, the whole sky is enchanting up because of the color, like a
ides face blush. I wistfully stood up, quickly ran home, wont say anything more, just sing a childrens song, melody is very good, after all, I still remember at the beginning of their own how how happy.

I remember someone said to me, a happy moment destined to become memories. I nodded, just, I think if my life is compressed into a small black dot, so that the green cloud and the sky was occupied all.

three

Later, I only remember I returned to the side of my parents. Then running as follow the same pattern every day between school and home, the early feel very interesting, because the school when I was a kid has been linked with the divine, after all there is to learn contain rich teachers, have innocent and happy students, there are many I did not think and will have fun. But when day after day, year after year this time, I always inadvertently think of at night, those
illiant years is gone forever, although for now, I did not resist psychological, although I chose to walk on the right side of is my own decision. But, still can feel the bottom of my heart soft one was hurt.

I said to mom, I want to go to the village.

She nodded, her mother still young. Dont see have the age of 37. Just her smile again also cannot cover the
ow of the vicissitudes of life.

I know, mom and dad from scratch, I cant fully understand their suffering, just as long as I know they love me, I also love them enough.

When I once again see the green trees, the lonely life of gear, suddenly miss.

Feel very sour, but still no tears like to imagine. Is not novel, not only because miss so and sorrow to the point of tears. I just remember, those years is
illiant.

Those are inscribed on the ancient handwriting or deep or shallow, crooked, but I found no clear. Tree trunk is a smell of decay because of the long day of loneliness, but that taste, but directly touch the naked, buried memories.

I walk quietly in the past, looking at those time indelible memory. They may exist for many years, but the words, also has fuzzy only superficial stroke, unable to identify the original appearance. I will go to, hand with a quiver, but felt in the past, engraving the persons mood.

Believe, would be old writing at a young age to remind yourself of the lettering.

The green forest is still calm, still in the distance some blatant, but ancient towering, the bird was flapping its wings oblique to the past. That voice to be heard, young birds that sharp sound, cicadas are still in the call.

It is quiet, but also lively.

No too much, but a bird, a tree, and perhaps, flowers.

I looking for, but I regret to find that have seen the tacky flowers before does not open again, even have no trace. And it will be the scene of my dreams? May be tacky flowers, inviting fragrance, is the scene of my dreams? I no, no, is, after all, so real sense of touch.

Lazily lying under the tree, the sun high up in the air, overlooking the earth, too much heat is blocked by trees. The wind blowing, leaves always quivering as there is life, they are singing, I know, that is that in the arrival of welcome me?I stick my head buried in his knees, smiled slightly.

Is not a posts cript posts cript.

I think I now have more or less know some what of, such as the past is past, the past was not cruel words. I do not wish to assign a new strong say sorrow, but I want to say, I dont have a
oad reach will see through everything. Although I will miss, and the occasional sentimental melancholy, but I remembered the greenwood, village, there are a cloud in the sky and I, you know? I am how to miss that time, but the reality is impossible dream down for long. I will not live forever in the memory of the so-called shadow. I am very happy, really very happy.

This article,

I give, those young years.

Offer me the floating cloud in the sky.

For, my side is
ight beautiful dream to the greenwood.