四月,轻微的忧伤,像年代久远的春酒,深藏于灵魂的深处,在一抹樱花的清香中扩散开来,无法自拔,像追寻着一些追不到的东西。我时常有这样一种错觉,迷失在春色笼罩的大海里,幻想自己成了一尾灵动曼妙的鱼,寂寞地潜藏在无声的水里,感觉水的温柔与透彻。水轻轻漫过,我沉醉其中。碧波滋润着干枯的皮 In April, a slight grief, like the spring liquor of old age, is deep in the depths of the soul, spreading in the fragrance of the cherry blossom, unable to extricate itself, like chasing after something untouchable. I often have such an illusion, lost in the spring enveloped in the sea, illusion that he has become a graceful graceful fish, lonely lurking in the water, feeling gentle and thorough water. Water gently, I indulge them. Blue waves moisten the dry skin