望着干燥、萎缩、凋谢了的你——百合,一团团的恐惧感如汹涌的波涛充斥了我的头脑。你是什么时候,由那清香柔嫩的小精灵变成了脊背弯曲、脸颊爬满皱纹的老人。我骄傲。想起刚从花店捧回的你,是那么的娇小可人,仿佛一个才出世的婴儿,抱着你,我仿佛是一位圣母,托着圣洁的灵魂,担负着伟大的使命。我思念。当含苞待放的蓓蕾慢慢绽放时,你那优美线条伴随着沁人心脾的清香完全地展示出来,如花季少女在自由的天堂里舞蹈歌唱。 Looking at the dry, shrunken, withered you - Lily, a group of fears such as surging waves filled my mind. When did you become the elf who was delicately tender and tender and turned into a crooked back and cheeked wrinkles? I am proud. Remembering you just took it back from the flower shop, it is so petite and pleasant, as if it was a born baby, holding you, I seem to be a Virgin, carrying a holy soul, shouldering a great mission. I miss you. When the buds that are waiting to bloom slowly bloom, your graceful lines are fully displayed along with the refreshing fragrance. As the young girl in the flower season dances and sings in the free heaven.