风起 When the wind blows up.

一切的开始都源于那已经褪了色的那年夏天，一切的结束也随着半哑的蝉鸣失了声息，我猛地钻进了汹涌的回忆里，明明是每一寸皮肤都清楚感受到的颤栗，却仍旧是一无所有。
All the beginning from that has faded in the summer, all the end of the cicada with half a dumb voice lost sound, I suddenly into the surging memories, obviously every inch of the skin is clearly felt the tremor, but still nothing.