点点思绪:如今,凉风袭来,吹走了一切,唯独吹不走月光。凉风袭来,吹散了暑气,吹走了虫鸣,吹乱了月影。抬头望月,一切静好。品残月之美自古以来,人们似乎总为残缺的遗憾而感伤,然而却忽略了残缺的美的韵味。月光流泻,思绪飞扬。抬头望月,一轮残月静静地挂在空中。我总是在想,它的另一半到哪儿去了。可是转念又想,月亮碎成了两瓣儿,每一瓣上都住着一个我。 A little thought: Now, the cool breeze hit, blow away everything, except to blow the moonlight. Breeze hit, blowing away the heat, blown away the buzzing, blowing the moon shadow. Mochizuki, all quiet. Since ancient times, people seem to always feel sad for the incompleteness of regret, but they neglect the charm of the incomplete beauty. Moonlight diarrhea, thoughts flying. Looking up Mochizuki, a quiet moon hanging quietly in the air. I always wondered where the other half went. But then I thought again, the moon broke into two children, each living on a petal I.