《3月8日》
夜里挑灯站岗，
不问几时天明。
门外呼风无月，
一次次。
温情双眼深沉，
陪伴秋雨光临。
木板作古筝音，
不再长。
” 8 March “
In the middle of the night,
lighting a lamp to protect people,
Don’t ask when is dawn.
The whistling outside the door is the sound of the wind but no bright moon appears,
Again and again.
There is a sense of depth in the warm eyes,
Accompanying is Autumn rain coming. The beat of the wooden planks serves as the melody sound of the zither,
No longer.
“ 8 March “
