Poetry 1:
Morning glory, morning glory, purple dream, when it came from your loudspeaker, crystal dew was still swinging on your vine, morning glory, morning glory, I caught it, I didn't say it was the wind, I said it was a flower, talking to another flower, morning glory, morning glory.
Poetry 2:
In a small town in the north, there is a long, narrow and dirty alley. I know you. Beautiful morning glory is full of decadent brick walls. My moving beauty in adore you is like a beautiful rainbow in the rainy sky, like a shy bride in a romantic bridal chamber. In the faint fragrance, I think of the past, with you, as beautiful as nature, I imagine the future life.
Poetry 3:
Fragrant morning glory, crawling on the messy branches, dew jumping on the flower face, like tears, glittering and translucent, shining with brilliance, thinking of songs sung when I was a child, small morning glory, full of bamboo fences, one after another, blowing small horns, and returning to the myth of childhood dreams, I remember that at that time, you made a wreath with morning glory and gently put it on my head, saying it was beautiful.