Excerpts from American literature on flowers 1
My wife likes flowers, not only looking at them, but also caring for them. The flowers she helped always thrive. So will it be gorgeous, elegant, beautiful and elegant? Clusters of flowers came one after another. In the summer when flowers bloom most vigorously, my small yard is full of colorful flowers, which smell very fragrant.
In the long afternoon, my wife always likes to walk alone among the flowers. Loosening soil, fertilizing and catching insects? Pot after pot, one after another. I'm not always busy. Sometimes I sit for a long time, but my eyes are only on the flowers.
Everyone in the street knows that his wife loves flowers and keeps many flowers. Women often do housework in the early morning or morning. After lunch, there may be leisure, and there are always two or three or three or five people coming to the yard. They knew I was taking a nap, so they all lowered their voices, but they couldn't hide their excitement, wonder and whisper? After a while, the sound disappeared. I know they're gone, and maybe they'll be holding a small pot of flowers or some flower seedlings from their wives. I can't hear the sound, but I can imagine my wife's satisfied smile.
Today, she asked for a small bag of flower soil from the greenhouse. I looked at the white winter scenery outside the window, and my heart was pounding, thinking of that agricultural proverb? 5969, watching the willows by the river, 79 rivers open, 89 geese come, and 99 oxen walk around? Ah! It's 49 now, and that day is not far away. Isn't it? My wife is already preparing!
I know that when spring is overwhelming, my small yard must be full of colorful flowers.
Excerpts from beautiful articles about flowers II
Few people don't like flowers, especially women. There are often articles comparing women to flowers. Of course, this refers to some beautiful women. The names of women with flowers are numerous, although vulgar, but also more vivid.
I like flowers, and I also like planting flowers. When my children were at my grandmother's house in Tongcheng, an old teacher used a big yard not far from home to raise all kinds of flowers. In spring, when the flowers are in full bloom, the yard is really colorful and dazzling. He also sells flowers, so I often choose one from his yard. I bought two pots of flowers that are easy to move and took them back to work. Later, many a mickle makes a mickle, and the small balconies were packed. Although I have a high interest in growing flowers, because I can't handle them, the flowers I have painstakingly moved back from far away are only flowerpots and mud, and only one honeysuckle grows well. I trimmed it like an umbrella. When the flowers bloom, they are golden, silvery and fragrant, and the door is open.
Now I have flowers on the platform upstairs. It was like this at first. The flowers are fragrant and the leaves are lovely, but I often forget to water them. When I think of it, no matter at noon, when the sun is shining tightly, I go to the tap to pick up a bucket of water and pour it on thirsty flowers. I accidentally remembered that it was time to fertilize them a while ago, so I fully fertilized each plant. The bad news is that in a few days, their leaves were burnt and smashed. I couldn't bear to pull them out, but I watered them as usual, trying to save their lives. It's no use knowing that. No, I just left some flowerpots. Fortunately, there are two sunflowers here, which makes the platform less deserted and lonely.
I used to like painting flowers and meticulous peony, and I dyed them lightly and carefully layer by layer until the colors were full and colorful, and I was immersed in the gorgeous peony I created. Over the years, with the encouragement and support of several painting friends, I spent all my spare time painting at my desk. Participated in several art exhibitions, and his works entered the painting and calligraphy market. But I feel that the painting is not satisfactory, but it is difficult to improve. Later, for other reasons, I still didn't stick to it. In this way, I can't keep flowers alive and I can't draw them well. These are not successful examples, and there is really nothing to tell others.
In fact, any kind of flower in nature is worth appreciating, such as the luxury of peony, the warmth of sunflower, the splendor of rose and the elegance of lotus? Needless to say, these are just small wildflowers on the roadside. If you are interested, just bend down and appreciate them carefully. There is also a touching interest. Except for lily-shaped perfume, most bright flowers lack fragrance, while those plain ones, such as osmanthus, gardenia, honeysuckle, jasmine, etc., are monotonous but extremely fragrant. The former is visual enjoyment, but the latter can close their eyes and immerse themselves in graceful music and enjoy it slowly. Compare flowers with people. Some women, such as peony and rose, are beautiful, noble and pleasing to the eye. Some women, such as osmanthus and jasmine, each have an elegant and charming atmosphere. However, many women are Shan Ye, and ordinary things on the roadside can't be ignored. But anyway, everyone should live a wonderful life. The world of flowers is not humble, and they are all blooming so heartily. People should bloom their lives in the most beautiful and splendid state, shouldn't they? Are you right?
Excerpts from beautiful articles about flowers 3
A random piece of music, so sad! Those flowers, the wet rotation in the melody makes me feel depressed. From that low syllable, I seem to see the scene of flowers falling, and I can't help but sigh! Flower burial grave, spring, tunnel far away!
Perhaps it was a casual storm, but yesterday's colorful Nuoda Square was full of vicissitudes. The heart walks on the small stone road in the square. My heart is not sad at all. Is it because of this day? A gloomy, hot, dusty face, still no rain! Those flying bees and butterflies have long since disappeared, and they have not seen the crystallization of love left between the stamens.
? Buds appear before the rain, but there are no flowers at the bottom of the leaves after the rain. The bee butterfly has crossed the wall, and it is suspected that spring scenery is in the neighborhood. ? I suddenly remembered Wang Jia's poems in the Tang Dynasty and couldn't help smiling. Yes, the most romantic is the poet. Oh! I'm afraid the bees and butterflies in love with spring have already climbed over the wall to find the children they left behind!
Frowning, I think I am neurotic. How can there be an artistic conception of spring in this hot summer? As the song goes, are they all old? Where are they? Just like life, from arrival to death, we all go our separate ways. I think those bees and butterflies can only shed tears when they look at the withered flowers.
A song ends and a new song begins. ? Maybe one day, I am No Country for Old Men, please leave me at that time; If one day I leave quietly, please bury me in this spring.
Listening to the rising sun's masculine interpretation flowing in the stereo next to the square screen, a yearning in my heart slowly rises. The same scenery, the same sadness, how many people can have such a peaceful mind? You can gently hum in the fading colors: If I leave quietly, please bury me in this spring? I can't do it anyway.
The arrogant wind shook the sun in the east, and the hot air rising from the ground invaded my glass through the shutters. Anyone will be upset and can't help but think of the wind chimes in spring to wash away the sadness brought by the misty new rain. Shallow fog, Ying Ying lights, singing peach blossoms, dancing all over the willows, full of worries being teased by the bright moon on Bridge 24, accompanied by exquisite rain, watching those bees and butterflies take good care of their upcoming children and dance with the sadness of nature among the flowers!
It seems that I have walked too long in the lonely journey in the desert. Sweet dreams are always easy to wake up. When you turn them over, those longing for life and fragrance will be annihilated by the hand of time. What is left is only the dry flower stem and the soil that the children of the flowers have played with.
It's like the end of the story. In the cycle of the four seasons, they look forward to the gifts for the coming year.
If I leave quietly, please bury me in this spring? At the end of the song, I am eager for originality!
When I closed my eyes, the flowers sang a song. Has been blown away and scattered all over the world!