A young love can only be hidden in a dream.

Often sighed for the withering of a leaf, often amazed at the moment of colorful butterflies, often for a girl in the crowd, wandering in the middle of the night, unable to fall asleep. That spring encounter, that round of moonlight, that night worried. With the dream of chasing, in the warm sun, the memory, showing the original intention of love, the passage of time, dandelion flying, can only be hidden in the dream, engraved in the heart, dare not let more people know.

With the coming of spring and the passing of summer, the lights are on and off. How many times, lost in the vast sea of people. How many times, in a strange land, touching the dry soul. Come and go at the crossroads, encounter countless passers-by, countless scenery, cloud birds flying, falling flowers fragrant. And oneself, wandering a place, the figure is lonely, the breeze blows through the vicissitudes of life of the face, the world, where to find comfort, where to find Acacia tears, where to find the dream story. That beautiful first love, that green and pure smile, that gives people a warm farewell, it is full of powerful encouragement. Through the spring, through the heat, through the late autumn, in the winter field, think about the past, walk in the present, in the future diary, once again mentioned the encounter.

Have many dreams, can not stop the footprints of the years. In that year, when we were young, we went to the same middle school and the same Chinese teacher, running under the same blue sky, but you have your direction and I have my dream. My classroom is next door to yours. Every time after school, you will quietly take a look at our classroom, smile at me shallowly, every time you are thirsty, you will bring me a bottle of Ameng Spring. But I am very shy, can only look down at the book, dare not look at your face. Because you are the goddess in my heart, just like the ice in my hand, if I take one more look at you, I am afraid that it will melt away in a moment, and there will be no sign of it.

That year, we went to the same university, were in the same playground for military training, bathed in the sun, walked in the drizzle, heard birds, and felt the changes of the four seasons. I'm standing right behind you, but you don't notice my concern. Countless coincidences, continuous love, I finally know your mind, you also reserved a place for me in my heart, but I am silent, for you or smile, let you ashamed, sad for a long time.

In that year, the campus was full of spring, we traveled together, climbed to the top of the mountain, the place closest to the dream, you said that you also like me, sitting under the setting sun, overlooking everything, the sky, plains, streams, are full of vitality, all flying with my excited heart. However, something happened in your family, you have to go back to deal with it, and once you go, you never go back to campus, because you are the boss of the family. Later, I married a stranger and left me alone, wandering around the empty campus, wandering, missing and worrying, while my first love, along with the stream, slipped away, never to find your shadow. Those beautiful, those dreams under the sunset, can only be hidden in the dream, engraved in the heart.

Once had the vicissitudes of life, once dared not say love, once inadvertently missed the scenery. Such as clouds floating by, there is beauty, there is reluctance to give up, there are concerns. That wisp of spring neon, quietly fluttering in my heart. Small palms spread the past events of spring flowers and autumn moon, with traces of years, but can no longer hide the colorful shy love, tumbling in the small heart. Those thick thoughts, being exposed in the sun, gazing at the ethereal years, once brushing shoulder to shoulder, autumn conversation, winter laughter, but only a thousand years of nostalgia, drift with the current, meet at peace.

Often dream of smiling in the port of time, laughing at their ignorance, laughing at the helplessness of life, laughing at the waste of time. Gazing at the fate that once had, the afternoon of interlocking fingers, the night of counting the stars, and now, suddenly on the paper, miss again, have flavor; and then worry about, intoxicating. At that time, two ignorant hearts, unexpectedly can have some intersection. You like poetry, I like prose; you like travel, I like photography. Today, the picture is still there, the camera is still there, and you are a wife.

Seasonal changes, galactic star shifts. I tried to find a spray to flow for you, a bright moon to give you joy, a cloud to be elegant for you, and a picture book to paint you. Those dreams ignited with teardrops, memories of passing water, plucking the beautiful melodies sunk in the bottom of my heart. Drink the wine cup of missing, sit on the melancholy path, that everlasting love, after meeting, hide in the dream.

Once thought that the fate of a lifetime and care, once thought that the footprints of a spring and put down. That figure in full bloom dazzling warmth, accompanied by that green love, in the river of life, consult the encyclopedia, with that plain pen, take paper and ink incense, engraved like poetry, hidden in a dream, never forget.

Author: Guo Hua