I did farm work and went to the factory, but I forgot. The blue sky was used as a bed by a boat, and my head was covered with waves.
Now, I have been to the countryside at the foot of the mountain, carried a gun and a hoe, worked in a factory, studied in the party, and worked as a boss to pick up waste. Now I am poor, robbing Peter to pay Paul, fair-weather friends don't come and go, and real friends are still hiding. The world is so desolate that I forgot my mother with my daughter-in-law.
The east is not bright, the west is bright, and the time is long, and the time is spent by the children. Time flies, and in a blink of an eye, it is already white-haired.
Catching birds in the mountains, fishing in the river, catching frogs in iron hoops, being punished by teachers and scolded by coaches have changed a lot since childhood. Now bring up the past again, like bubbles in a dream, like dew, like electricity. The past will never be forgotten, and you will never forget it if you don't mention it.