Much like a flower, it seems that it is not a flower, and no one falls to the ground. Throwing it on the side of the road seems heartless, but it is full of affection. My heart hurts, my eyes are sleepy, and I want to open and close. Dreams follow the wind in Wan Li, seeking lang and chasing warblers. I don't hate this flower flying away. I hate the West Garden, which is difficult to compose. Where are the traces of falling flowers after the rain in the morning? Drift into the pool and become a pool of duckweed. If the spring scenery is divided into three parts, two of them become dust, and the other part disappears when it falls into the water. In detail, it seems that it is not a flower, but a little tears. 》
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