Memory fragment - sunrise

The wind is blowing, rolling yellow sand, spinning under the blue sky, vast; vast fields, endless, full of green; walking alone in this monotonous space, breathing monotonous air; looking far away, I don't know what it is, is the light of hope, the light of pain?

The wind blows people to see things, the eyes are blocked by a strand of hair, I walk without purpose; are you going there? Where can I go there? Without a goal, a person alone looks at the dark green flowers on the roadside, and the clouds in his heart are always inseparable;

At the end of the East, there was a big, red cloud slowly appearing in front of my eyes, red and bright, watching the heart; looking at the slowly rising red clouds, did not see hope, as if returning to the past In the days, the heart is dull, and the eyes are a little fuzzy;

A person stood stupidly, the wind screamed; the sky was not bright, only a few rays of light shone on my face; who can feel the pain of this heart?

Now how to do? Why do you see the beauty of the sunrise without the shadow of joy? Why is it covered with a cloud? Is that laugh? Is it crying? The sun is the origin of the spirit of all things, but in my eyes there is no birth machine or vitality.

The third day: small circle students