A poem describing begonia

I was afraid that the flowers would fall asleep in the middle of the night, so I lit candles and painted red makeup on Shi's Haitang.

I'm afraid the flowers will fall asleep at night. The fire shines in red makeup, content to stay in the Song Dynasty's "Dead Hua Lian"

Between the bamboo fence, a captivating smile, peaches and plums are always vulgar. Su Songshi "lives in the east of Dinghui Garden, full of flowers, and there is a begonia, which I don't know is expensive."

Spring is as thick as a glass of wine, and Haitang is too drunk.

Haitang blushed without hesitation. In Joan Hinton written by Yu Yi of Song Chen, it was drizzling independently.

Ask the shutter man, Haitang is still there. Do you know that?/You know what? Do you know that?/You know what? It should be Song Qingzhao's Dream.

Who cares about the spring after begonia blooms, and it rains every day? Myitsone-Xun's "Young Beauty"

Layers of leaves grow between the new branches of begonia, and the little buds hidden in them glow a little red. Jin Yuanhao asked "Two begonias of the same generation"

Love your heart, don't spit lightly, teach peaches and plums to be spring breeze. Yuan Haowen asked "Two begonias of the same generation"

Give some points. . . . My neck hurts when I sit. . .