Steps around the green embankment, blowing willow silk, crossing the flower path, listening to where, mourning flute, wind sending sound. People say that the Grand View Garden is like spring all the year round, but in my eyes, it is just a sad city. Watching the wind blow, the flowers turn red, the peony withers, the peony is afraid, the begonia is surprised, the willow is sad, the peach is bitter, and the flower is forced to wander like a human being. My heart is ringing one inch, and the lyre is ringing. I just want to cherish my innocence and pity the same life, so as not to teach you to fall into the mire and be ravaged. And pack your bags, peach and plum souls, and build a fragrant grave to bury heroes and heroes. Flowers fall from the sky and fly all over the sky. Who is pity when the red disappears and the fragrance breaks? 360 days a year, the wind and sword are pressing each other, how long can it be bright? Once wandering, it's hard to find. It is always difficult to leave the soul of a bird, and the bird is ashamed to spend it without saying anything. I hope to have wings on this day and fly to the end of the day with flowers. After all, where is Xiangshan? Beautiful bones are not collected, a cup of pure land shields the wind, and quality comes and goes clean, which is not called a ditch. The man who buried the flowers is laughing today, but who did he know when he buried them? There is no sad song for me, I don't know what happened.