That night, flowers blossomed and the sky was full of stars, but I didn't look closely.
Now that the flowers are blooming and the stars are still shining, I regret it.
The wind is thin, the rain is dancing, and the fragrance is red.
Lost, nostalgic, I am waiting for flowers to bloom in my dream. -inscription
Suddenly I miss flowers. Pink cherry blossoms, blue gentian, purple lavender, from near to far, have been extended to the end of the distant sky. I am a lonely child, walking on this thin road, smelling the flowers and looking forward to the shadow behind me. Overhead is the splendor of cherry blossoms flying all over the sky, at hand is the sadness of quiet gentian, and beside it is the gentleness of lavender. I am like a butterfly, lost here. Red flies over the swing, making the curtains light and cold. I just feel leaning against the dangerous building and singing the wind carefully.
I don't remember when I saw the flowers bloom, but vaguely remember that the gorgeous colors have been extended to the horizon. These flowers are so beautiful! I am like a pilgrim, facing the flowers devoutly, closing my eyes, putting my hands together and washing my soul. I heard the flowers laughing, laughing so happily that the laughter was as sweet as a silver bell.
Childhood is childhood! That immature me, that I stopped under the dim street lamp, that I bloomed in the rain, waiting to come back again.
I am a lonely child, forgetting the thin road under my feet, longing for the flowers and the past covered by shadows behind me.
Counting the knots on the rope every day, the shadow of time is reflected on the wall, with a faint yellow layer, which is the yellow of old photos, old books and childhood. The footprints of time are left on the wall, and childhood is left on the stone steps at the feet, which can never come back.
I am a butterfly, lost in the sky, flying quietly.
Who is leading me to fly in the wind? These hands are so warm.
Who leads me to fly in the rain? This voice is so gentle.
Who is it, who makes me so attached and unwilling to fly again?
I am a butterfly lost in time, flapping its wings and looking up gently. Forget the spring flowers, forget the summer tide. I can't fly across the sea, I can't wait for mulberry fields, I can't hear the splash of spring. In time and memory, I forgot the way and deviated from the navigation mark.
Flowers bloom, doors open, and the melody has long been forgotten in my ear. The wind is blowing, wrinkling a pool of spring water and dancing a piece of wheat straw. The sun shines warmly and I fly happily.
The flowers are drunk, the door is asleep, and the moonlight is flowing. The string is broken, the song is broken, who listens? Standing hurts, who mourns with words? The stars reached out and I struggled to fly.
The flowers are not finished, the door is closed, and the kite is hovering by the cloud. After drinking all the wine in Zhongshan, I suddenly looked back and saw that Huayang had gone without a trace. It's the geese coming home again. I'm waiting for Qinghong, but I don't know who I'm thinking, flying in confusion.
It was the rain, the gurgling rain, which wet the door.
It's raining, and the falling rain makes the flowers fly.
The rain broke through the lake in a low voice, and I couldn't fly.
Will not miss, no longer miss, the sleeping lotus pond. Let the wind blow, I can't catch up.
I am a butterfly lost in the starry sky, covered with faint starlight, and I can't forget my sadness. See the moon dim and incomplete, see the moon pull into a full string, see the moon hanging alone in the treetops, and see the moon sink into the sea to shake feelings. I wander in the starry sky, eager to be my true self, and refuse the worldly sitcom. Starlight can't dispel my sadness.
Night always comes and goes quietly. The eyes only see the results, but they can't see that they are always in the process.
Stars bloom like flowers, penetrating layers of fog. Autumn cloudy frost flies late, and it can't hide its smile; A little cold can't erase the silence of its sleepless nights. The stars are in full bloom in the sky, and all kinds of colors come together. Although they are not eternal, they are also long-lasting. They were born in peace, died in glory, and bloomed all their lives.
Stars wander like flowers and fly with the wind. At the horizon, the road deviated from the predetermined direction. Gradually drifting away, drifting away, the angle remains the same, but it has long been far from the end. As time goes on, many people appear in sight, and many people gradually disappear. I look up at the sky and the stars are still smiling. I lost myself under the starry sky, thinking about the songs I once sang.
The stars are as sad as flowers, quietly burying their worries. Tears blurred the light of stars and the fragrance of flowers. There are more and more clouds, the air seems to be full of salty moisture, and the moon also hides in the clouds. That light fell from the sky, quietly, glittering and translucent, and passed away in a flash, like a beautiful smile and a torn wound. Goodbye, goodbye, lotus in the sky! Starlight faded, dawn came, and I was lonely again.
It's rain, it's rain, it dissolves the silver sand under the moon.
It's rain, it's rain, the stars are scattered.
The falling rain, time flies, was drunk by him!
The meteor, like a small white boat, cut the moon and scratched the flowers.