Time flows like a river. Do you remember every morning and evening gathering chrysanthemum East Hedge? Do you remember when you suddenly looked back at each other? Do you remember the shy smile with her drooping eyes at your deskmate? Do you still see your lover for the first time, and the first tender touch in your heart? This is the time, the only poet we all share in the world, which writes a unique poem belonging to each of us. Only the photograph, the pace of the years to stay, pause at a certain point, retain some eternal, every turn is like looking for time to leave a note of deep memory bookmarks, each silk of time precipitation dyed light yellow, is so exciting, feel good.