Butterflies and butterflies fall in love with flowers.

Butterflies love flowers, but flowers fly with the wind.

Butterflies are drunk by flowers, but flowers are blowing in the wind.

Butterflies love flowers, and flowers return with spring.

Butterflies are drunk with flowers, but flowers fly with the wind.

Flowers bloom slowly, and the jade branches of the spring breeze are drunk.

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Flowers cry and petals fly.

Who are the flowers for?

Who are the flowers sad for?

Butterflies are intoxicated with flowers.

Flowers are dancing in the wind.

Residual flowers.

Flowers bloom and fall without regret.

Fate comes and goes like water.

Flowers wither for flowers and flowers fly for flowers.

Flower sorrow is flower tears, and flower tears are broken.

Flowers dance, flowers cry, flowers cry, petals fly.

Flowers bloom for whom to thank, and flowers fall for whom to grieve.

Heart to heart hurts itself, and love is boundless.

Love is drunk, love is melancholy for lovers.

Emotional injury is infatuation, and infatuation is emotional shock.

My heart is floating, my heart is distressed, and my heart is lost.

For whom I wish to die, for whom I wish to die and be buried.

Flowers fly all over the sky, and love comes and goes.

The geese go back and forth, and they don't sleep at the ebb and flow of the tide.

The night moon dreams of cuckoo, which is a blue face that is hard to keep.

If life is short, why can't acacia be cut off?

Butterflies love flowers, but flowers fly with the wind.

Butterflies are drunk by flowers, but flowers are blowing in the wind.

Butterflies love flowers, and flowers return with spring.

Butterflies are drunk with flowers, but flowers fly with the wind.

Flowers bloom slowly, and the jade branches of the spring breeze are drunk.

Friendship flows forever, into the hearts of flowers and tears.

I want to fly with you, but it's just a dream.

Flowers bloom and fall to Dong Jun, earning flowers bloom and fall.

Love is long, so is sadness. Hua Die fell in love with tears.

Silent acacia. . Don't cry all your life, who is right and who is wrong!

Broken jade and broken glass hurt the ground, how many empty dreams.

Life can only be specious.

Hiding in a lonely corner, pretending that there is no me in the world.

The wind blew away the dead leaves. . .

Leaving only a sad and lonely butterfly. . .

Who loves who, who loves who, who is not who. . . . . .

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◆◆◆◆, a dead-leaf butterfly with broken wings and no flowers. . .

◆◆◆◆◆ If I become a butterfly, I would like to lie on my beloved flower day and night. ...

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