That night was full of flowers and stars, but I didn’t look closely.
Now the flowers are broken and the stars are still the same, I regret it.
The wind is singing carefully, the rain is dancing lightly, and the Red fragrance is broken.
Lost, sentimental, I am waiting for flowers in my dream. -Notes
I suddenly began to miss the blooming flowers. Pink Cherry, blue gentian and Violet Lavender extend from near to far to the end of the distant sky. I am a lonely walking child, along this thin Road, sniffing the fragrance of flowers and falling in love with the past covered by the shadow behind him. On the top of my head is the gorgeous Sakura, on the hand is the quiet Dragon’s sorrow, beside me is the gentle lavender, I am like a butterfly, lost here. The chaotic Red flew over the swing, leaving the luomu light cold. I only felt that I was standing in the dangerous building, and the wind was singing carefully.
I can’t remember when I saw the flowers bloom, but I just vaguely remember the gorgeous color extending to the horizon. Flowers so beautiful! I was like a pilgrimage, pious to the flowers, closed my eyes, folded my hands, washing my soul. I heard the flowers laughing, laughing so happily, laughing like a silver bell.
Childhood is childhood! The immature me, the one stopping under the dim street lamp, the one blooming in the rain, waiting for my return again.
I am a lonely walking child, forgetting the thin road under his feet, longing for the fragrance of flowers and falling in love with the past covered by the shadow behind him.
Counting the knots on the rope and each day carefully, the shadow of time reflected on the wall, with a faint layer of yellow, which is the yellow of old photos and the yellow of old book pages, it is the yellow engraved with childhood. The footprints of time were left on the wall, my childhood was left on the stone steps under my feet, and I would not come back.
I am a butterfly, lost in the sky, flying quietly.
Who led me to fly in the wind? These hands are so warm.
Who led me to fly in the rain? This voice is so soft.
Who is it? Who makes me so sentimental that I don’t want to fly any more?
I am a butterfly lost in time, flapping its wings and looking up gently. Forget the flowers in spring and the tide in summer. I can’t fly over the sea, wait for the mulberry field, and can’t hear the spring splashing. In time and memory, I forgot the road and deviated from the navigation mark.
The flowers opened, the door opened, and the melody was forgotten by my ears. The wind is blowing, blowing a pool of spring water, blowing and dancing a piece of fragrance. The sun shines warm, and I fly happily.
The flower was drunk, the door fell asleep, and the moonlight was flowing like a stream. The string is broken, the song is broken, who listens? Standing and hurting, who is sad with the words? Xinger stretched out his hand and I struggled to fly.
The flower is not gone, but the door is closed, the kite is lingering by the cloud. After drinking all the wine of Zhongshan, I suddenly looked back, only to see that Yang Hua had gone nowhere. The Wild Goose went to the wild goose again. I waited for Qinghong, but I didn’t know who I was thinking about and flew confusedly.
It was rain, the gurgling rain, wet the door.
It is rain, the gurgling rain, cool through the flowers.
The rain whispered and broke the lake water. I couldn’t fly.
I won’t miss it, no longer miss it, the sleeping lotus pond. Let the wind blow, I can’t chase.
I am a butterfly lost in the starry sky, with light Starlight, can’t forget the sadness in my heart. The moon is dim and incomplete, the moon is full of strings, the moon is hanging on the treetop lonely, and the moon is sinking into the sea and shaking. I am in the starry sky, eager to be my true self and rejecting the melodies of the world. Starlight cannot dispel my sadness.
The night always comes lightly and leaves quietly. The eyes only see the results, but they can’t see that they are always in the process.
The stars bloom like flowers, penetrating the layers of mist. Autumn is overcast and Frost flies late, which can not cover its smile; A little light cold can not wipe out its clear and peaceful beauty for sleepless sleep. Stars bloom in the sky, and thousands of purple and red gather together. Although it is not eternal, it also lasts for a long time. They were born in peace, died in brilliance, and blossomed all their lives.
Stars flow like flowers, flying with the wind. To the end of the sky, the road deviated from the intended direction. Drift Away, away, Angle still, but already were far away end. As time passes by, many people appear in sight, and many people fade away. I looked up at the sky, and the stars still smiled. I am confused under the starry sky, thinking about the song I once sang.
Stars are as sad as flowers, hiding their worries quietly. Tears Misty the light of stars and the fragrance of flowers. The clouds are increasing, the air seems to be filled with slightly salty humidity, and the moon also hides in the clouds. The light outside the Sky quietly fell, crystal clear, flashing away, like a beautiful smile, also like tears falling hurt. Sajanala, sajanala, water lotus in the sky! The Starlight faded away, dawn came, and I returned to loneliness.
It was rain, the rain of Ling Ling dissolved the silver sand under the moon.
It is rain, the rain of Ling Ling, there are many stars and flowers.
The rain murmured, the fleeting time is gone, drunk by him!
Meteor is like a small white boat, which cuts through the moon and leaves flowers.
I am a butterfly lost in the dream, sinking in the flowing clouds, waiting for the train which had already gone away. Light fall on the crystal water, looking for the fragrance of flowers dissolved in the water. The wings are wet, and the tears are cold and heavy. I can’t fly, imagine the flowers in the sky under the starry sky. Maybe tomorrow, I will become the most beautiful flower in the lake and dream blue in the Blue Lake. I will dream of golden wings, which will lead me to fly freely.
Dream, dream! Time abandoned me and hurried forward; Meteor abandoned me and disappeared in a flash. I lingered at the intersection, watching the cars coming and going, at a loss. Childhood, the childhood that will not come back, is like the rain of cherry blossoms, which makes people heartbroken. The sunshine of youth is so pale in front of it.
It’s a dream, it’s a dream! Forgot the changes of seasons, the vicissitudes of the sea, intoxicated under the night sky, unwilling to wake up. In the rainy street, Yang Hua flew out, soaked through the fragments of missing and broke the string of memory. Gentian is still open, on both sides of the Milky Way railway, as pure and brilliant as stars.
Dream, dream! Now I know the feeling of sorrow, I still want to say, I still want to say, but I complain that the flowers are gone in autumn! Let the color of lavender spread in my palm, so I was confused in front of the door. I didn’t have the courage to push the half-open door. Guess that the forever behind the door locked all yesterday.
It is rain, the misty rain, leading me into the fragrance of flowers.
It was rain, the misty rain, washed all the flowers.
The rain is broken, leaving me a flower pain. A little blue on the cheek is the frost on the string.
I am a lonely walking child, walking along this thin road to the end of the sky. I miss the fragrance of flowers with sleeves and the past covered by the shadow behind me.
I am a lost butterfly. The string was broken, and my tears fell like grauts; The rain struck zero, but I couldn’t hear it. How deep is the courtyard? Silent, empty to the silver thread.
The flowers fell, the rain stopped, and the sky was still so blue.
The door was closed, the star was dark, and the knot was still yellow.
The dream woke up, the dream broke, the fragrance of the past, no more, no more.
I am an ignorant child, stopping in the dim light and overlooking the end of the sky. I am waiting for the flowers to bloom, and I will not escape from the flowers.
I am an ignorant butterfly, struggling to fly to the end of the horizon in the rain. I am looking for flowers, and I will not escape from flowers.
Flowers bloom self-sometimes. Just all kidding us aside, Xianting dream, inability to retain, spare sigh. I don’t need bees and butterflies one after another. I don’t need flowers to turn into honey. I just want to fly to the end of the sky with flowers.
At the end of the day, where is the incense Hill?
The flying flowers are as light as dreams, and the boundless rain is as thin as sorrow. There was no reason to break the Wild Goose, Ran Ran flew down Tingzhou.
Is it better than knowing nothing? Are ignorant and innocent people happier than wise men? I don’t know, but I think so.
The world of adults is so boring! No dreams, no flowers, no laughter. Adults can’t see the wonders of the sky above their heads, the smiles of stars, and the warm blessings of countless small bells in the night sky. They would rather rush about for the so-called “livelihood” every day than watch the sunset, but complain that life is boring. They conceal their true self, but complain that others do not understand themselves.
The adults lost the little happiness at hand, pursued the fame and wealth of the secular world, and forgot the blooming flowers. They accused me of living in the non-existent world created by myself all day long. I just answered lightly, “at least I am myself.” I have a clear conscience to live in the world as a true self.
Adults don’t know children. Living like a child is not to overhead yourself, but to become yourself frankly. The night gives me black eyes, and I will use them to see the light. Time gives each of us a sunset every day, and how many people stop?
“Live Like a Child” is a helpless dream rather than a misty dream.
A nightmare that makes people unable to extricate themselves!
It was the flowers blooming in my dream that I waited for the geese to come in my childhood. Why can’t I go back when I grow up? Why is “human feelings” always full of hypocrisy and numbness? Why can’t I shake off the shackles like a child and find the fragrance again in the wind?
It is the flowers blooming in my dream that I am waiting for the return of my childhood. The golden light was in my heart, and I followed my memory to find the fragrance of flowers. But the door of time was already locked, and I lost the fleeting time. So helpless, so unwilling, but unable to change.
Flowers will bloom again, but childhood will not come again. I looked at the end of the world, stubbornly waiting for the door to open.
Even if there is never that day.
When can I see flowers again? Look at the gorgeous color extending to the end of the distant sky, and fall in love with the past covered by the shadow behind you.
I always miss the blooming flowers! The wind blows out the hair, mixed with the fragrance of flowers.
When will you return? When will you return? Tears asked flowers and flowers without words, red flew over the swing.
How can I forget, how can I forget? Under the sad Bridge, the spring wave is green, and it was once a shocking photo.
Lost, sentimentally attached, unable to let go……
Just wait for the flowers to bloom in the dream, let the butterfly fly over the sea, and the feeble wings will disappear in the dust of the world.
Just like this, I waited for the flowers in my dream to bloom. Even if the Sky lost the geese, the coldness of tears soaked my pale cheeks.
Flowers bloom, dreams are not over, and stars are full.
The flowers fell, the dream woke up, and the Starlight was still there. Heartbroken, tears choked, unwilling to wake up.
I waited for flowers to bloom in my dream.
Just wait like this, the flowers bloom in my dream…… (From: The Valley of dreams, mengyouyou)