I am the master of my season.

Sniffing the smell of flowers, the world is full of grass, snow melts spring, birds are called between heaven and earth.

The word of youth is full of youthful atmosphere. We are not arrogant in the youth, but not in the winter. We are our colorful spring.

Ice and snow, like smoke, disappeared, no nostalgia, no discomfort. With one hand, we are real heroes in class. Lifting up and looking up, we are very angry on the way to school. The pure campus is full of spring, no fame, no sorrow, we set sail in the ocean of knowledge, we are flying our faith in the road of life! In the cultural Everest, I want to stand proudly. In the heart of the Great Rift Valley, I will never give up, my youth is full of pride, I will never be old-fashioned.

Roaming in the spring, I want to be determined and determined; flying in the spring, I have to dream back.

Smell the smell of rice, sometimes revealing the taste of autumn leaves. I don't have Li Taibai's stalwart glory, nor Li Qingzhao's national hate and hatred. I am who I have, this fascinating autumn rhyme.

The flames are gone, the sun is still there, there is no sorrow, no mourning. I waved my hand and wiped away the grievances. I want to be more mature. Shake my head and wipe away the sorrow. I still have to look up on the way. The bright test room is still familiar, I don't want to bow after the test! I am not willing to fall because of the blow. I will never let go when I don’t see the end. My youthful enthusiasm remains, I must insist on it!

My youth, I am the master, my season, my autumn, I will never bow!

The third day of Caitang School, Huli District, Xiamen, Fujian Province: Yi Huan