纸蜻蜓我不能飞———青石板太沉重了。每一块石头的缝隙里,吹来你的消息。细小的,柔软的。花朵里,我折叠起的时光,是我不能忘记的。流水,莺飞草长。田野里的尘埃都是清亮的。我想飞的时候,山垂下眼帘。流水所到之处,花朵赋予了时光以神性。没有悲伤的蜻蜓,轻轻地落下。我肩头,靠着一棵树。委屈的树,落光了叶子。我在纸上画了很多蜻蜓,欲飞未飞。青石板铺就。小镇真的是太小了,野心一直雄心勃 Paper dragonfly I can not fly --- quartzite is too heavy. Every piece of rock in the gap, blowing your message. Small, soft. Flowers, I fold up time, I can not forget. Flowing water, Ying long grass. The dust in the fields is clear. When I want to fly, the mountain droops. Flow wherever the flowers give the time to God. No sad dragonfly, gently down. I shoulder, leaning against a tree. Wronged trees, falling leaves. I drew a lot of dragonflies on paper, wanting to fly without flying. Pave quartzite. The town is really too small, ambition has been ambitious