鸟儿早已停止了歌唱无心留意那阵清风路灯冰凉而依稀一步一步慢慢地迈着回家沉重的步伐不知有多少天没欣赏过那弯明月的柔光没享受过那片黄昏的彩霞妙龄花季无奈已有了疲惫和叹息难道我只是一只小虫在无休止的题海书丛中爬来爬去失去方向什么时候才能变成一只鸟飞向那向往的林 The bird has stopped singing and he has no intentions to pay attention to the array of breeze street lights, cold and vaguely step by step slowly to go home to a heavy pace I do not know how many days did not appreciate the soft light of the curved moon did not enjoy the piece of dusk of Choi Chiu Miu Miu flower season Helplessness has been exhausted and sighs I’m just a worm crawling in the endless sea of ​​books, going and losing direction when can it become a bird to fly to the forest