玛雅家具
The Rose She's made it through the summer rain,her scent being embeded in my mind.She's faded away in the freezing days,her splendid red lingering on.I'll remember the dew shing brightly;I'll cherish a dream to appreciate her smile once again;She could alleviate my stress,pulling me through the desparate circumstances with no words.She informs me of the truth that I not succumb to the fears inside cause I have faith and an inner peace.She' now in my pot,representing a revived life.她穿越夏季的滂沱大雨，花香弥漫。她在严冬中凋零，一抹红色依旧绚烂。我记得她那耀眼璀璨的露珠，也憧憬着下次再见。她抚慰的心却不留下只言片语，我因此度过了那些磨难。她在耳边轻声细语，我懂的了不畏惧内心害怕的真理，因为我可以波澜不惊。我把她种在盆子里，等待一个新生命。
不蓉错失927
1. My Pretty Rose Tree by William BlakeA flower was offered to me;Such a flower as May never bore.But I said I've a Pretty Rose-tree.And I passed the sweet flower o'er.Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:To tend her by day and by night.But my Rose turned away with jealousy:And her thorns were my only delight. 2. When the Rose is Faded by Walter de la MareWhen the rose is faded,Memory may still dwell onHer beauty shadowed,And the sweet smell gone.That vanishing loveliness,That burdening breath,No bond of life hath then,Nor grief of death.'Tis the immortal thoughtWhose passion stillMakes the changingThe unchangeable.Oh, thus thy beauty,Loveliest on earth to me,Dark with no sorrow, shinesAnd burns, with thee. 3. A Little Budding Rose by Emily BronteIt was a little budding rose,Round like a fairy globe,And shyly did its leaves uncloseHid in their mossy robe,But sweet was the slight and spicy smellIt breathed from its heart invisible.The rose is blasted, withered, blighted,Its root has felt a worm,And like a heart beloved and slighted,Failed, faded, shrunk its form.Bud of beauty, bonnie flower,I stole thee from thy natal bower.I was the worm that withered thee,Thy tears of dew all fell for me;Leaf and stalk and rose are gone,Exile earth they died upon.Yes, that last breath of balmy scentWith alien breezes sadly blent! 4. The Grave and The Rose by Victor HugoThe Grave said to the Rose,"What of the dews of dawn,Love's flower, what end is theirs?""And what of spirits flown,The souls whereon doth closeThe tomb's mouth unawares?"The Rose said to the Grave.The Rose said, "In the shadeFrom the dawn's tears is madeA perfume faint and strange,Amber and honey sweet.""And all the spirits fleetDo suffer a sky-change,More strangely than the dew,To God's own angels new,"The Grave said to the Rose.
