No one saw plum blossoms and bamboos, and they blew incense across the stone bridge overnight.
Reed flowers grow old with me everywhere, who will fly next to the swallows at home?
Living in a small building and listening to the falling spring rain, you will hear the sound of selling apricots in the depths of the alley early in the morning.
The blooming epiphyllum is bright and full, dazzling, so elegant and charming; Trembling, dizzy, fragrant, like a white fairy.
Even if the wind blows at night and the boat is blown away by the wind, it just stops on the shallow shore of the reed catkin beach.
Bloom has different returns, and flowers have different sorrows. If you ask about lovesickness, bloom will fall.
Looking at a large area of colorful cherry blossoms, I really doubt that the Nine-Day Fairy scattered shredded colored satin on the ground.
Lotus leaves will not turn green the next day, and lotus flowers are particularly bright red in the sun.
People are idle, osmanthus flowers fall, and the night is quiet and empty.
Flowers dance, flowers cry, flowers cry, petals fly, flowers are grateful for who blooms, and flowers are grateful for who is sad.
Traveling in a world of pictorial, there are mountains and flowers everywhere, and I am destined to be on this mountain. The small bridge is beautiful, send a WeChat to taste it! [tea]
In the field, a flaming Chinese milk vetch is like a blazing flame.