2003-07-19 18:51:24荷睿艾塔˙Lee
Thousand Days of Wilderness
“Let a young heart be drunk with the light fragrance of water lily.”
We were quite young at that time, yes, we were so young but ain’t undeveloped and, well, we were a bunch of wild children, yes, we were so wild.
We met on a clear-blue-sky day, and I supposed both of us were able to smell the coldness in the atmosphere when my firstly October came in the north. The next time, we met in the front of water lily with joyful fragrance among our young and leapping hearts.
19 by 18 is a perfect number in our life, yet the most precious period in our entire lifetime; whether it was pleasure or bitterness we’ve had during the next thousands of days when we stayed high up in the mountains, we enjoyed it whole-heartedly.
We walked under the sun, strolled in the rainbow, rode in the mist, drove in the fog, chated on campus, laughed in the woods, scremed when it snowed, got drunk when nights fell, bursted into tears in the pouring rain, and had a huge fight in the cold cold air. Oh, dear, where would the place be when the next reunion come along?
Are we still young by now? Are we still wild? Are there still light fragrances of water lily? There is no more 19 by 18, no mre snow so no more screms, no more laughters nor tears, even no more fights no matter how hard we tried.
I supposed that I just miss those days when we were young and wild, though they might be with fights that we ain’t knew why.
We were quite young at that time, yes, we were so young but ain’t undeveloped and, well, we were a bunch of wild children, yes, we were so wild.
We met on a clear-blue-sky day, and I supposed both of us were able to smell the coldness in the atmosphere when my firstly October came in the north. The next time, we met in the front of water lily with joyful fragrance among our young and leapping hearts.
19 by 18 is a perfect number in our life, yet the most precious period in our entire lifetime; whether it was pleasure or bitterness we’ve had during the next thousands of days when we stayed high up in the mountains, we enjoyed it whole-heartedly.
We walked under the sun, strolled in the rainbow, rode in the mist, drove in the fog, chated on campus, laughed in the woods, scremed when it snowed, got drunk when nights fell, bursted into tears in the pouring rain, and had a huge fight in the cold cold air. Oh, dear, where would the place be when the next reunion come along?
Are we still young by now? Are we still wild? Are there still light fragrances of water lily? There is no more 19 by 18, no mre snow so no more screms, no more laughters nor tears, even no more fights no matter how hard we tried.
I supposed that I just miss those days when we were young and wild, though they might be with fights that we ain’t knew why.
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