Years silk

Pick up the silk thread, weave the years. A trace of the line, record growth. Years are in a hurry, time is in a hurry, everything suddenly comes, and suddenly goes. The years have left us with memories, and what have we left for the years?
Only stunned, only hurried. My life doesn't need to be very exciting, just need to be valuable. Living is valuable, life is meaningful, life is valuable, and time is commemorated. Time is left for me to miss, what am I left for? That one line, weaving in my hands, forever, forever.

Years silk

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