People who are not pigeons and flowers lie on their backs
The mound of dreams
The dream Village
Some people grow burdock on the hillside and others on the wall
Then he lay down and didn't want to come out
He knows the shadow of flowers, the shadow of starfish
He knew the shadow was the sea
The lush queue walked forward in praise
Someone will turn into the ashes of the grassland
Turned into snow and flowed out of the village, and the crows were withering
A heavy bird knocked over the land
There are always people who want to become the road of the blind, the road of the song
There is always a hand to the land of the soul
Someone always has a cool glow on his face
There are always trees to separate the air, the river and the earth
Make life stop breathing and be surrounded by its own fragrance