The flowers are falling, the flowers are falling.
The green leaves and green tarsus reflect the red calyx, and I return to the Golden Pavilion with Jun Pei.
The shadows are blowing on the steps of the tortoiseshell feast, and the fragrance is floating on the dogwood curtain of the dancing hall.
Falling flowers fly, burning into chaos into the middle curtain.
The flowers are falling and spring is in full bloom, but the spring people will never return.
The flowers are falling, and the atmosphere is lingering around the tall trees.
The fallen flowers have become abundant in spring, but spring people don't care about spring.
The Qingtai of Qige is quiet and leisurely, and the red scarf on Luo Bian's sleeves comes and goes again and again.
The prime years are no longer available, and the high branches are difficult to climb again.
Try to visit Luohuali in Fudan and stay among Luohuali at dusk.
I fell into the flower garden with you, and a pair of servant girls appeared on the stage.