It's hard to love someone. Like the pomegranate in June, the fiery love is blooming, but the breeze is unintentional. He also risked his life and gave all he had for love, and he was heartbroken and miserable for love. But it always ends up with an intentional falling flower and ruthless running water.
It's not hard to love someone. Like the pomegranate in June, the love scattered in the fragrance of flowers, there is always a person looking forward to flying for her. A casual joke, an undisguised look in the eyes, but also let people linger, never give up.
Thousands of people in the world, fate come and go, fate together and scattered, love in an instant, difficult is not difficult, easy is not easy. In the dark, arrangements have been made, neither too early nor too late.
In June, the pomegranate blossoms are as red as fire. You meditate and stare alone under the flowers, and you don't expect anyone to understand. You feel sorry for yourself in the moonlight and don't mind the fragrance of the flowers. You say that you are listening to your heart and flowers, and that your loneliness has nothing to do with your prosperity and loneliness. Standing on the bank of the Atlantic Ocean, I clearly felt the fragrance of flowers in the breeze. Although I was far away, I felt that you were close at hand.
You say, there is no love in your flower fragrance, why be affectionate and ask for trouble, it will be ruthless and annoyed in the end. I said, I smell the love hidden in the fragrance of the flowers, but the door is closed and has not been opened, for fear that the love that flies easily hurts others and hurts themselves.
You say that you are a pomegranate tree in the countryside, blooming alone, enjoying alone, no delicate flowers, no strong fragrance. Although not noble, but very pure, there is no easy promise, no easy alms. I said, flowers have a reason to open, is that flowers have a time to bloom. There is no need for promises, no need for unswerving life and death. You don't need a reason to love someone, just because you know it.
You said that there is always a good season for flowers, your florescence has missed the season, will eventually wither, will eventually die, do not want you to see my withering flowers fall. I said, flowers are not a hundred days red, no matter how bright flowers can not escape the traces of time, although the flowers thank, but the fragrance of the flowers has been swept into the heart, the love in the heart has been engraved in the heart. I do not know when, in the twilight and morning clock, the sky is apart, looking up across the sea, can not forget each other.
Close to the horizon, close to the horizon. Keep the promise that you didn't make easily, and let your thoughts fly in your dreams. Under the pomegranate tree in the early morning, I read to you the poem I just wrote last night. Each paragraph is a dream memory, expressing the yearning across the ocean. In the fragrance of pomegranate flowers in the middle of the night, you sing the songs written for you, each note is the thoughts of a dream, entangled with the concern of thousands of mountains away.
At night, do not want to leave; wake up early in the morning. Day after day, month after month, winter to spring, not a day without concern, not a day without missing. Time passes by like running water, the days together always feel so short, but I just want to say goodbye at the beginning.
It is June again, the season of pomegranate blossoms. Fiery red flowers, a cluster, hanging all over the branches. It is the blooming love in our hearts, meeting in June and opening in June. Flowers in full bloom, spitting fragrance, do not disturb time, do not compete for spring, only for those who understand.
The pomegranate blossoms in June, have you ever thought that you will wither alone in the cold winter and never pray to have fiery love? Do you ever want to bear the pain of gestation in the expected spring, and never expect someone to pity in the lonely branches. Never thought, the breeze sends warmth, the sun is warm, taste the belated love under the pomegranate tree.
The pomegranate blossoms in June, have you ever thought that it will also wither, whether because of the wind and rain or the ruthless years, the fiery red flowers will fall in the wind. One day, you cried and said, the flowers are gone, will you leave? I said, the withering of flowers is not the end of love, you have bloomed in my heart. Don't be sad, although the flowers are gone after all, falling in love with you is not only the fate of a lifetime, but loving you is not only the love of a lifetime.
Have you ever noticed that new life is born in the traces of fallen flowers? It is the secret of love, the yearning of each other, and the tenderness of thinking about each other day and night. A little love a day, a little miss a night, the watering of love, will eventually harvest the love fruit as crystal clear as a ruby.
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