The flowers have withered and withered, and the wind has blown them all over the sky. The bright red color has faded, and the flavor has disappeared. Who can feel pity for it? The soft spider silk seems to be broken and connected. Floating among the pavilions and pavilions in spring, catkins flying all over the sky blew in the wind and covered the rusty flower door curtains. The girl in the boudoir is faced with this scene of the last spring, so regretful, full of melancholy and melancholy, and there is no place to put her sorrow. Carrying this flower hoe in my hand, I opened the door curtain and walked into the garden. The flowers in the garden had fallen all over the ground. How could I bear to walk around on them? The clear willow silk and thin elm pods only know how to show off their beauty, regardless of the falling peach blossoms or the flying plum blossoms. When the earth returns to spring next year, the peach and plum trees will bloom again, but who will be left in the boudoir next year? In March of the New Year, swallows pop up with hundreds of flowers, and the nest exuding the fragrance of flowers has been completed. Swallows on the beams, you are too ruthless towards flowers. Although you can still hold flowers and peck grass next year, how could you imagine that the owner of the room has died, the old nest has fallen, and the beams are empty.
There are three hundred and sixty days in a year, what kind of days do you live? The cold wind like a knife and the severe frost like a sharp sword ruthlessly destroy the flower branches. How long can the bright spring flowers last? Once it's gone, it's nowhere to be found. It is easy to see the flowers when they are in bloom, but hard to find them once they have fallen. Standing in front of the steps, I am filled with sorrow, which makes me, a flower buryer, so sad. Holding the flower hoe tightly in his hand, he shed tears secretly, and the empty branches seemed to be stained with blood.
The cuckoo weeps all its blood and tears in silence, and the miserable dusk is coming. Carrying the flower hoe, I endured the pain and went back, closing the deep door of my boudoir. The cool light shines on the empty walls, and people have just fallen asleep. The spring rain knocked on the window, and the quilt on the bed was still cold. People wonder what makes me so sad today. Half of it is cherishing the beautiful spring, and half of it is resenting the hasty departure of spring. Don't say a word when you come, and leave without a word when you leave. Last night, I don’t know where I heard bursts of sad singing. I don’t know if it was the soul of the flower or the spirit of the bird, but whether it was the spirit of the flower or the spirit of the bird, they couldn’t keep it. Ask the bird Son, the bird didn't speak and asked the flower. The flower lowered its head shyly.
I hope I can grow a pair of wings from now on and fly to the end of the sky with the flying flowers. But even if we fly to the end of the sky, will there be a pattern where flowers are buried? It is better to use a beautiful sachet to collect the delicate bones of flowers, and then use a handful of clean soil to bury this unparalleled beauty of yours. It turns out that you were born clean and died clean according to your noble body. You were not allowed to be contaminated by any dirt and were abandoned into dirty rivers.
Flowers! If you die today, I will bury you. Who knows when I, a poor man, will die suddenly? I buried the flowers that fell on the ground today, and people laughed at me for being stupid. But when I die, , who is the person who buried me? Look at the withered spring scenery. The flowers are falling from the branches. It is also the time when the girl in the boudoir ages and dies. Once the spring disappears, the girl turns into an old lady, the flowers fall, the person dies, and the flower and the person do not know each other.