The wind of the years drifts softly,

It's another season of flowers,

The wind is blowing,

Gently blowing the stamens,

Pink, red, purple, and all kinds of flowers of indescribable colors,

are all showing their graceful posture in the wind.

I think they're meditating,

Asymmetrical flowers,

The low ones are closing their eyes and recuperating,

For they cannot see the sky when they look up,

No matter how hard you grow,

Always can't catch up with the flowers that hold their heads high,

The wind doesn't blow,

The rain can't get rid of it,

Because by their side,

densely covered,

Flowers much taller than them,

The sun is not visible,

From the east to the west, day by day,

but failed to bring light and heat,

With these poor little flowers,

I think they're complaining about their looks.

No one can see them,

Carefully admire their posture,

The eyes of the world,

will only see,

The fragrance of dancing to the sky.

Who has ever paid attention,

Followed,

The short, small yellow flowers,

They just waited quietly,

Waiting for the recognition of the world,

Finally waited,

A gust of autumn wind blows,

The flowers in the wind are falling,

autumn

Brought the world a golden glow,

Let those dwarf flowers,

Finally able to think of the longing human nod,

For a brief moment,

That's the expectation of Sanqiu,

Just in that moment,

They smiled,

Reluctantly left the world.

The flower is thinking about his own face,

Why is it so short-lived?

If you give me three more autumns,

I'll be able to put the fragrance,

Spread to the ends of the earth,

Leave no regrets,

A perfect ending.