In the spring, the people who stepped into the green went to Moshang, and I was different from them, and my Moshang was in an acre of flower fields in my heart. I just stood under the window and waited for the footsteps of the season to gradually approach, the season and I were separated by an invisible threshold, as soon as the wind blew, the flowers on my stranger all bloomed, and the spread was my most beautiful spring.
As soon as the wind blows, the flowers bloom ... The bright moon is in the sky, the breeze is blowing, and those flowers are blooming in front of the case covered with small red letters. After the mist of the night, the sporadic loneliness is transformed into a gurgling spring at the fingertips. Every bit, it's like the old days.
As soon as the wind blows, the flowers bloom ... Standing in front of the table, I have always wanted to write a page of fragrant letterhead. The end of the world is not far away, the cape is not far away, and there is a clear breeze, bright moon, spring water, stars spreading their wings to make butterflies, if sent, there will always be plump wings flying over Guanshan Mountain. It's just that the world is bewitched, red dust and fireworks are obsessed, thinking for a long time, but I don't know what familiar words to express.
As soon as the wind blows, the flowers bloom... Thoughts are sometimes the shadow of the moonlight or daylight, and they are behind them, if not said. At this time, the peach blossoms in front of the window clearly bloomed again, and what appeared in my mind was still like the old face of the past. Let the thoughts give birth to wings and bloom like butterflies, as if it is the snowflake you have written, peach blossoms burning, turning into bookmarks of memory in the long passage of time.
As soon as the wind blows, the flowers bloom. In the cycle of the four seasons, I stood on this side of the river and looked at the cooking smoke in the distance. Not to remember or to wait, habit is always so helpless, the heart is resounding and unable to speak.
As soon as the wind blows, the flowers bloom, the people who love flowers drink and sing under the peach blossoms, pay tribute to the lover who shows the flowers, remember the love things that have disappeared, the fragility of life is really needless to say, the persistence is like tears, always those who drip into the heart of the broken. Therefore, I dare not cry at the peach blossoms in April, I am afraid of a trance, and another reincarnation of the riverbank ...
In spring, as soon as the wind blows, the flowers bloom
