A , drifting
Memory of New Year's Eve before the night, the snow flurry, as if the lights are fluttering snow flakes, transcendent in the quiet world of snow and rain of all things. And you, but on the other side of the sea calling, calling me to go home to a lonely wife sadness, tearing the heart. Touched even the heavens could not help but shed tears. So you were taken in by love. Displaced destiny once again to one in the overflowing Spring Festival atmosphere of joy and harmony.
Memory of that second, the mountains and rivers and mountains and rivers meet the soulmate, once again heard you in the sunset sunrise center jumping beat. Hear, you, begging for life, starfire like chasing the sunrise of hope. The claws of the mountains and rocks several times you engulfed and rolled up, blood stained change the clear sky and sunshine, the wind and rain urged to beat under the misery. You still never give up. ''Heroes wither for ages, honoring as so strong''. So you were saved by love, rebirth retained your pursuit.
Drifting, can not find the other side of the shore, but love is wrapped in angular warmth. A thousand years of a line, ten thousand miles between the catalyst. Memory draws on the sustenance of sadness and despondency to spread, and is eventually sensitized by human instinct.
Second, overflowing
When memory and promise dispersion, the wind blew through the constant cloud smoke; can not face the change, is no longer each other smile. Memory but naturalized in the mottled wind and rain drift.
Memory of Beijing, China, the city of midsummer, the five thousand years of accumulation of the fullest. The pulse of youth is perfumed from the skin. Athletes who fight to the death run towards a faster; stronger; higher goal. It carries the ideology and nationalism that cannot be carried by many sports, and the Olympic spirit of never-say-die is rooted in the blood.
The children of China have transmitted the Olympic spirit of love and self-improvement to every corner of the world, and the song of peace has soared on the wings of the Olympic melody. This is the spirit of the Olympic Games, is the desire of every Chinese.
Three floats
Memorizing 30 years ago, the moment of flowers and plants sprouted, and the days of smoke and rain. Everything has been out of the slumber in the cold and thanks to the fall, early in the recovery to look for the bloom, which is not only the grass grows, attracting bees and butterflies, more is to change all the past. The yellow land, the yellow wall, reflecting the yellow skin. Suddenly, the heart began to brew the arrival of spring, the words floating out between the lines, came, that is - the call of love!
Memory of the monolith that had pried China's old system, opened the door of China's opening to the outside world, the era of China blew the horn of the new century. Overnight rise of the seat of the city, once the Chinese dream of the capital, the spring breeze with love blowing all over the earth, with love to build the blue sky, and you and I on the side of love, until forever.
Miserable winds and bitter rain a bitter memory. Every time the thoughts are fluttering there will be a kind of inexplicable touched. Touched by the silk love under the lingering, touched by the withered flowers blooming in the four seasons of the noble, touched by the greatness of love to light up the life, touched by the lingering memories.