The swallows have gone, some have come back, the willows have withered, some have turned green, the peach blossoms have withered, and some have bloomed again. But wise you tell me, why are our days gone forever?一一. Someone stole them, right! Who is that and where is it hiding? Did they escape on their own， Where are we now?
I don't know how many days they have given me, but my hands have gradually become empty. Counting more than 8000 days silently, they have already slipped away from my hands, like a drop of water on a needle in the sea. My days drip into the flow of time without sound or shadow. I can't help but shed tears layer by layer, despite those who come and go, what kind of rush is there in the middle?
When I woke up in the morning, there were two or three slanting suns shining into the small room. He had feet and moved gently and quietly, leaving me confused and spinning along. therefore一一. When washing hands, days pass by in the basin. When eating, the days pass by from the rice bowl, and in silence, they pass by in front of the staring eyes. I feel that he has gone in a hurry, and when I reach out to cover his hand, he passes by the covering hand again. When it was dark, as I lay in bed, he cleverly stepped over me and flew away from my feet. When I opened my eyes and said goodbye to the sun, it was another day that had slipped away. I hid my face and sighed, but the shadows of the new day began to flash through the sigh again
What can I do in the world of countless households during the days of flight? Only wandering, only in a hurry. In the 8000 day rush, besides wandering, what else is left? The past days have been scattered like light smoke by the breeze, like mist melted by the early sun. What traces have I left behind? Have I ever left a trace like a gossamer? I came to this world naked, and in the blink of an eye, I will also go back naked, but it cannot be peaceful. Why did I have to go through this journey for nothing?
Why do you cleverly tell me that our days are gone forever?