At that sad moment last year, the branches of the years, a blooming flower died instantly, and people looking for scenery stood in a sad scene. The withered flower soul lives in heaven and becomes the missing person of her family. I used to love my husband and wife, living far apart.
The night is lonely and long in the world of mortals where Iraqis have gone. Half a dim lamp, watching alone, looking at the sky.
The laughter of the past hovered in the sky, and the beautiful eyes went straight through the chest. Past events are like smoke, grief is boundless ... kneeling on the moon and praying, can we meet again?
The eulogy written in tears was sadly burned at the bottom of the lake. The air is filled with smoke and sadness.
The flower soul is attached to the mortal world, and comes from the ends of the earth to keep an appointment with the yearning for heaven.
Obviously close at hand, but brutally separated by a broken bridge!
Willow leaves are heartbroken ... the river I can't cross is full of acacia tears.
On the other side of the bridge, Flower Soul whispered: I never leave, watching you every day. Look at the blooming flowers in front of the house. The dew in the flower bud is the tears of my missing. The fragrance of attached flowers, climbing over the fence through the window glass, drifting into the house, drifting into your tearful eyes, your dreams, dreams ... Dear, I really miss you. ...
On this side of the bridge, the spoony watcher vaguely heard the familiar voice and saw the graceful figure. Hidden like a breeze, still flashing like a shadow. Ah, honey, you're back? Embrace the soft and fragrant body with ecstasy, and hug it tightly in your arms, for fear of instant separation. Love and warmth in the past, bitterness in dreams. ...
Do you know that?/You know what? Do you know that?/You know what?
The days linger in the torment of grief, and the heart swings on the hour hand of blood. You are irreplaceable, irreplaceable! The distance between heaven and earth is the love we care about all our lives, so let us accompany Yin and Yang forever!
The flower soul is in the warm embrace with tears, the memory is in the shutter covered by wind chimes, and the traces of love are silent. ...
Don't go! Don't go!
Affectionate season, trapped in cursed May. The night watchman woke up in the depths of the dream, and a beach of Shui Piao was gone. Want to stay with the clouds, leaving only a sad look back.
The torn soul cries bitterly to the sky. ...
Missing heaven, soul and life depend on each other ...