Flowers wither and fly all over the sky,
Who has pity on the broken red fragrance?
The spring Pavilion is filled with gossamer,
The falling wadding touches the embroidered curtain lightly
Three hundred and sixty days a year,
The wind and the frost force each other
How long can it be bright and beautiful,
Once wandering, it's hard to find
Flowers are easy to see, but hard to find,
In front of the steps, the flower man was buried
I lean on the hoe to shed tears,
There are bloodstains in the air
May slaves bring forth wings,
Fly with the flowers to the end of the sky
At the end of the day,
Where is Xiangqiu!
If you don't have a bag, you'll have a bone,
A cup of pure land covers the wind
The essence of quality is clean, come and go,
It's better than the sewage in the ditch
Now that you are dead, you will be buried,
I don't know when he will die
I'm so happy to be buried with flowers,
Who does he know when he was buried?
At the end of the day,
Where is Xiangqiu!
At the end of the day,
Where is Xiangqiu!
Let's have a look at the fading flowers in spring,
That's when beauty is dying
Once spring is over, beauty is old,
I don't know when the flowers fall and people die!
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