The soul of the rose blooms in midsummer, spitting out a touch of charming splendor and magnificence, and spitting out a wisp of charming fragrance, which embodies the gorgeous heart of midsummer time and space; the soul of the rose curls up and down, dances gracefully, and the fragrance is thin and sneaking. In the vastness and vastness of the night sky, roses whisper to the stars, telling the romance of the serenade.
The soul of a rose is a restless heart, carrying countless star-like wishes. Its fragrance is revealed, its colors are vivid, and it is a sincere, passionate, kind and beautiful feeling, so the rose is attached to it. Within the myth of love, there is the flower language of love instead. Rose is one of my favorite flowers, because it gives life the most beautiful color and true meaning. Love is made grand and fiery by its graceful grace, until all the passion and yearning are burned out, so I pour my heart out. The hard work of life sings for it and outlines a sincere and gorgeous picture for it. Life will also throb because of its blooming. This is the tremor of the soul, this is the tremor of love, and this is the tremor of life.
I attach the soul of the rose to the clumsy poetry written with hard work, so that you can feel this broad and warm love. It does not lose its beautiful color because of the seasonal changes in winter and summer. Love will be because of its existence. And it shines brilliantly, and it is joyful, and it cheers for joy, and it is bright and joyful, and it has ups and downs, and it is lingering.
The soul of a rose has been infused with the power of love. This power can move mountains and seas. This power is earth-shattering. This power is astonishing. This power speaks volumes. This power dares to make the sun and moon change the sky. This power is lingering and infatuated. This power is The power of the devil, the magic is boundless, and the magic is very flavorful. Give me a rose that belongs to the soul, and endow it with a beautiful spirit attached to the gorgeous music, attached to the rich poems, attached to the fresh air of the soul, attached to the depth and silence of the night, I I want a rose in my heart to bloom the beautiful words of love.
