逝去的亲人，虽已消散，但是记忆依旧存在。忘却的是伤痛，不忘的是怀念。清明节来临，愿你忘却烦恼无忧愁。 Although the lost relatives have disappeared, the memory still exists. Forget the pain, do not forget the memory. Tomb Sweeping Day is coming. May you forget your troubles and have no worries. 清明节来到，短信祝福不能少，愿你祭奠先人表孝道，野外踏青心情好，日日开心没烦恼，天天快乐幸福绕，美好未来步步高！ Qingming Festival is coming, SMS blessing can not be less, I wish you to pay homage to our ancestors, show filial piety, outdoor outing in a good mood, happy every day without trouble, happy every day around, a better future step by step! 一年一度清明节，今又清明倍思亲人。愿逝去的亲人在天堂里享福，生者发奋图强。 The annual Qingming Festival, and now Qingming times think of their loved ones. The dead are willing to live in heaven.  清明节到了，愿扫去你的烦恼，扫去你的忧愁，扫去你的痛苦，扫去你的不幸，让一切好运都将围着你。 Tomb Sweeping Day is coming, I wish to sweep away your troubles, your worries, your pain and your misfortune, so that all good luck will surround you. 历过生死离别的人，更懂得爱和珍惜。所以，我们活着的人，都要好好善待和把握与人相处的日子，让生命不再留下遗憾！ Those who have gone through life and death know how to love and cherish. Therefore, we living people, should treat and grasp the day with people, let life no longer leave regret! 天人永隔，或许并非最远的距离，逝去的人在心里住着。微笑着回忆过往，想念不再伤感。思念的季节，清明已至！ Heaven and man are separated forever, maybe not the furthest distance, the dead people live in their hearts. Smile to recall the past, miss no longer sad. Missing season, Qingming has arrived!  泪水千行，寄托着对往昔的回忆；青烟缕缕，飘荡着对祖先的怀念。清明节到了，愿逝者安息。 Tears thousands of lines, reposing the memories of the past; smoke continuously, floating with the memory of ancestors. Tomb Sweeping Day is coming. May the dead rest in peace. 清明节时雨纷纷，记起先人不忘本，愿你时时都幸福，不枉先人众望归。 During the Qingming Festival, it rains one after another. Remember that our ancestors never forget their roots. May you be happy all the time. 清明，总是伴随着那令人不安的细雨，表现出春天的寒冷和寂寞，丝丝雨一样的薄如愁，有多少人在这愁来愁去…… Qingming is always accompanied by the disturbing drizzle, which shows the cold and loneliness of spring. The drizzle is as thin as sorrow. How many people worry about it  年一年的清明，一年一年的牵挂，一次一次的想念，一分一秒的记忆。 Year after year of Qingming, year after year of concern, once again miss, a second of memory. |
