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那个敲碎了羊皮鼓,也敲不醒的端午啊!所有的鼓点,都在你的日子里。晶亮亮的泪,聚成脚印,将古老的习俗摔碎,撒下一路没有规则的破镜片,映照未卜的时光。祖母的喊冤声,在乱鸦的溃逃中飞走了。飞走了的声音,再也找不到巢。于是,勇士和醒世者的赞誉,只是飞散在空中的鸦嗓。你用自己寂然的影子,在大地上烙上一个倾斜的人字。一撇一捺,迈着双腿,再也不是古老的篆体,呆立于僵死的华夏土地。你走了!你从水中来,又走入水。
That beat the sheepskin drums, but also knock awakened Dragon Boat Festival ah! All the drums are in your life. Crystal bright tears, gathered into the footprints, the ancient custom broke, sowing all the way there is no rule of broken lenses, reflecting the uncertain time. Grandmother’s shout, flew away in the messy fleeing. Fly away the sound, can not find the nest. As a result, the warriors and the awestruck praise, just fly in the air crow throat. You cast a sloppy word on the earth with your shadow of silence. A write a Na, walked legs, is no longer the ancient seal, stay in the dead Chinese land. You go! You come from the water again into the water.