Time passes by your feet, taking a look at the scenery, carrying the vicissitudes of a season, warming your greetings, and making you drunk at dusk.
Time slips through the fingers, the years pass by in a hurry, and the collection is unforgettable. Every ray of light is turned into a poem, and every ink is turned into a painting.
Time is like the fallen leaves in autumn. It bids farewell to the beauty of yesterday and realizes the longing for tomorrow. It drifts away and amazes the whole autumn.
Time has been wasted, and time has made the past seem like smoke, forgetting the scenery of yesterday and softening the encounters of tomorrow.
Perhaps time is just like the people and things in the shallow days. Stories are the boat and time is the oar, rowing through the wind and moon of yesterday and sailing towards the tranquility of tomorrow.
In the depths of the years, the world of mortals is hidden. No one will forget the ups and downs of yesterday, and no one will forget the love songs of the world of mortals. Taking advantage of the warm sunshine all the way, we go to look for the joy of spring, the mottled memories, and the appearance of aging seasons.
Time is like four seasons, and time is a fleeting year. There are charming scenery in every section of the road, and the tenderness of the story is hidden in every section of time!
Cut a period of time for you, weave the beauty of the passing years, brew a cup of tea for winter, and meet unexpectedly in the warm season.
Time, meet winter! I always think about the beauty of spring, and when I encounter the scenery in the fleeting time, I always leave speechless wishes.
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