三月风,轻抚江南。他犹在高原,手捧雪花,暗念昨日娇颜。他是军人,驻守边关。她温柔体贴,浅笑嫣然。聚少离多,鸿雁托起思念。丝丝暖,润心田。受重伤,夜难眠。面对空旷河山,洒下一地悲伤。心中再度浮现,她俏丽容颜。不想流泪,只想她平安。将千思百转的情愫,揉进淡纸素签:“我已不爱,即将提干。”挥利剑,斩情缘。誓用冷漠、决绝为她撑起自由的天。 March wind, stroking the south. He is still in the plateau, hand holding snow, miss Yan Johnson yesterday. He is a soldier stationed at the border. Her gentle and considerate, smiling light sweet. Gather more and less, hung geese hold up thoughts. Sizi warm, run heart Xin. Wounded, sleepless nights. In the face of open rivers and lakes, shed a sad. Heart again, she pretty face. Do not want to cry, just want her safe. Will be the best of thousands of turns, rub into the light paper signed: “I do not love, about to mention dry. ” Sword, cut love. Pledged indifference, decided to prop up her freedom days.