There is a composition about beautiful butterflies.

Look at the graceful dancing, graceful posture and beautiful wings. Isn't that a butterfly dancing in the air? I used to hate this kind of bug. I don't know why I pay special attention to it now and want to know everything about it. Look! Two butterflies in front are chasing each other. The white wings are decorated with several beautiful black patterns. When the breeze blows, a pair of antennae swing with the wind. But how many people know that its beauty is not innate. It is a new life again and again, and it is a pain again and again. Look at these two little things in front of you. I also have an unspeakable love in my heart.

I've caught two before to observe. First, they pretend to be dead. When they are useless, they slowly get up and see their own kind. Just gently touch another butterfly with tentacles and wings. Another followed and stood up. Two little things began to run around in my cage looking for an exit. One of them was injured when I was catching butterflies, and I limped because I was not in the cage because of my physical condition. Like an old man in his sixties. But everyone knows that their practice is in vain. I finally let them go. I know they belong to nature. Soon they recovered their spirits and flew away together. Fly briskly and fly high. As if afraid that I would scratch them again. I can see that they are obviously much happier than when they were at my house. Watching beautiful butterflies walk, dance and chase in the air. In an instant, a kind of joy welled up in my heart. I can only bless them silently. I hope they will be beautiful and happy forever. I hope they will come and dance for people every summer. I hope they will be happy forever.

It rained cold for three days and nights. Butterflies with wet wings whirled sadly in the rotting fragrance everywhere. Between the sticky leaves, there is a meager morning light and residual tears. The vast mountains and faint balconies, like a world-long maze, are intertwined in lush green grass and extend far away to meet the sedan chair floating from the secluded path.

The sound of horns and suona resounded through the sky, crushing the soil all over the place. The man in the red wedding dress abandoned the ancient mirror of homesickness and the comb of lovesickness, and only brought a broken and withered heart.

Gorgeous colorful robes can't cover my thin body like leaves; The brilliant rockhopper can't cover my cold and gloomy face; The sound of gongs and drums can't call back my determination to go home.

The desolate roadside is isolated with a pile of desolate green graves. Called the bearers, gently lifted the curtain, smiled, speechless, but tears fell down.

Uncle Shan, do you want Yingtai to confirm Yue Mingting's oath? Thunder in winter, rain and snow in summer, harmony between heaven and earth, dare to part with you. This eternal true love is better than your life and my life, and it is better than the wealth in front of you.

Life is inseparable, and death is inseparable. In that dark grave, as long as our flexible hair is intertwined, all the cold secular prejudices will be separated. Life can't be married, death can't be just, fly with me, both fly.

At this moment, I have tears, but I am not sad. That lingering infatuation has gradually died like a numb mountain. The only thing that survived to comfort me was your illusory smile and the dribs and drabs of our three years together.

Remember that March when apricot blossoms were raining and birds were flying on the grass? I stay away from high walls and deep courtyards, and smoke locks my boudoir. I took off my beaded Yu Pei swaying around my waist, took off my tightly wrapped plain skirt, and put on young men's clothes with cool sleeves, Confucian shirts and square towels and folding fans, smiling, and appeared in front of you. Your surprised eyes and sincere smile have warmed the tears I haven't had for a long time.

There are countless breezes in the sky. Before and after the flowers, we recite poems and draw pictures, play the piano and whisper, and play in the mountains and clouds. Every day with you, every grass and tree exudes intoxicating gentleness. In your eyes, I am my dear Xiaoying Tai, my little brother, and you are my what?

In fact, I can't explain why the eyes that look at each other for an instant have long believed that love has long been doomed in stone. I am so familiar with you, vaguely familiar, as if I have never been apart, and the feelings that have been dusty for many years are opened at this moment. However, I don't want to be noticed by you. Perhaps, you have seen it, between my smiling eyes ...

Bandu, a classmate of three years, is our bosom friend who talks about everything. It's just that you don't understand my tender heart, confuse my reserve of living alone, pity my thin body, stare at my simple and shy expression and taste my gentle words. A bowl of clear water lies flat between pillows, reflecting your innocent heart and your invisible shy face.

Countless bloom flowers fall, the sun and the moon change, holding thousands of volumes, reciting poems and dialogues, which contain my endless lovesickness. Before burning incense, it was your heart and my daughter's feelings, and Yuanyang in the water was laughing at your stupidity. Uncle Shan, I don't want to be your sworn brother. I want to be your wife for life.

Three years have passed in a hurry, and in a blink of an eye, you and I are about to leave, and the eighteen pavilions are willing to send each other, but you can't understand the sadness in my tearful eyes. Your little nine sisters promised you, that is, the boy in white in front of you. Please remember her appearance, her face and her future, and then greet your beautiful bride carefully.

The white pony flies, and spring has gone to the autumn solstice. I leaned against the fence and wore autumn water, but I didn't expect your figure. The only thing waiting for me is the marriage decided by my parents.

You came in a hurry, looking surprised, annoyed by the mystery that you were too late to understand. Meeting privately on the balcony, you and I looked at each other, but there was nothing to say. Silence, silence is the flute of farewell! A good marriage is missed or wrong, but it is only a year and a half of acacia. Although I was very angry and decided to resist marriage and flee without permission, your cowardice made me very sad, sad and helpless.

Yes, I can't resist marriage, just as you can't take me away easily I hope that the snobbish eyes of the government will strip away your poverty layer by layer and your only self-confidence and dignity. You waved your sleeves angrily, leaving me to look at the cold moon window, waiting for the stone wrapped in paper to fly out of the wall and shoot down my mind; Look forward to the language on the paper and make a promise to stay together; I am looking forward to following the trajectory of the moon, avoiding crowded houses and looking for a paradise to accommodate my feelings.

However, I didn't expect the wait to be so long. I haven't heard from you. Acacia has turned into a thin Leng Yue, still shining on my gaunt face, on this lonely and cold balcony.

Every night, the wind chimes ring in front of my window. Can you hear me? Perhaps, I can only put my desire and piety into the incense burner of prayer and light them one by one from the gloomy colors. In fact, I only wish that the sky is not old! Pray that you and I can be together forever.

Rain hates clouds, lovesickness turns to ashes, and your gloomy and sad death shattered all my dreams again. I am eager to see the Shili Pavilion, waiting at a loss, and I can't call back your distant figure.

Now that you have passed away, my soul is about to be scattered, and life is so fragile, can I still love and hate?

Today, I set foot on the wedding bridge, not for the wealth of the Ma family, but to escape the shackles of fate forever.

Sambo, I came to see you, wearing a red wedding dress.

Today, I am your bride. Far away, I have heard the wedding drums coming from the clouds and the sky. But at the moment, the drizzle is gently caressing my skin and giving me the final wedding baptism. I know you will come as scheduled; I know, all this is your invisible arrangement.

Take off the heavy rockhopper, take off the gorgeous wedding dress, and I, wearing a white shirt, leave the sedan chair and run to your green grave, with clear tears, condensed into a complex I want to break. Fragile, I can't escape this sad melancholy, but I have lost my heart. ...

I brought a celadon jade bowl and threw it on your grave, letting its fragments splash. At the beginning, it was not the bowl full of clear water that crossed between you and me, but the shackles of secular prejudice and morality. Yes, as you said, neither you nor I are gods. When I pour it, water will drip out. When I hit it, my dream will be shattered. When you leave, my soul will be scattered.

I brought osmanthus wine, no longer constrained by my daughter's reserve, filled my glass with acacia, and shed tears and rich autumn colors. Let's sip together, enjoy the meeting moment that you and I look forward to day and night, and let's whisper in this bleak world of mortals, even though we are made in heaven. Or, let me wait in the wind forever, keep in front of your grave, keep the moon white and the wind light. Yellow leaves are yellow leaves.

One day, she saw a leaf falling from the tree, as if dancing. Huang wants to be that leaf, but she can't fall.

Finally, one day, it will fall yellow from the tree. When she fell from the tree, she sang and danced, and then fell to the ground. At this time, she saw a beautiful thing beside her and opened her eyes again. It turned out to be a beautiful butterfly. Huang Yeer asked Sister Butterfly, "Why can't you fly?" The butterfly said, "I was injured when I was collecting nectar." Huang comforted her and said, "Then you have a good rest. When you get better tomorrow, I will take you on a trip. " At some point, they all fell asleep.

The next day, the sun came out and Sister Butterfly's injury healed. When the breeze blows, they fly to the blue sky together and look at the beautiful scenery.

I came across that beautifully decorated butterfly specimen when I was collecting old things. Brush away the dust, and the inscription on it is still legible. My eyes stayed on it for a long time, no, precisely, the eyes hidden behind those huge wings? On the tarnished eyes.

Clever modeling "colorful patterns" lying quietly on the specimen rack "like a beautiful dream"

This is really a magical butterfly. Not only its beauty, but also its unique, mysterious, broad and dexterous wings are covered with a layer of hazy black, and only the centers of the four wings have a touch of bright color. No matter from which angle, it presents strange colors: light blue, dark blue, light purple and deep purple ... Like the last sunset glow before dark, I looked at its name: Dream Butterfly.

I woke up from a long dream and found myself changing clothes. My friends all say that I am beautiful and willing to play with me. The weather is sunny, and the grassland where we live is sunny. Lots of flowers, red, yellow, purple and pink, these beautiful colors render a large area of Yuan Ye. The waking flowers and the wind are talking, and the sunshine turns into small golden palms through the flowers, and the leaves with bright green branches are shining with touching light.

It was really the best moment of my life. During the day, I fly around among the flowers, or dance with the wind, or kiss the gorgeous dresses of flowers. At night, we lie in the stamens and look at the stars, sometimes falling asleep. Flowers are always generous. My favorite place to go is purple tulip. Her color is very similar to my wings. The deep petals are as thin as spun silk, but they are still noble and mysterious. She was lonely, but she and I became best friends.

The atmosphere seems more and more strange, and there are fewer and fewer companions around. I was a little uneasy, but she always comforted me that she was kind. I calm down. I thought they went out to play and didn't come back. Yes, I always thought the world was as friendly as her.

Reality cruelly shattered my fantasy. One day, a group of people came. They cut down those big trees crazily and dug up exotic flowers and grasses crazily. And then what? Crazy pursuit of the same kind. I'm a little silly. Under her reminder, I hurried to the sky.

When I came back, it was already a mess. The tree was lying on the ground, and those lovely flowers were trampled in a mess, but she disappeared, leaving only a purple petal. I hovered in the sky for a long time, and the moon exuded cold Yin Hui, and the residual red was like a drop of blood.

Without her, I live in a daze, and I try to find another heaven. But no, all the places are the same. Besides, there is no trace of a butterfly.

Finally, one day, amid the cheers of a group of people, I flew into a net that I could never fly out. ...

Finally, you lie on this specimen rack, your life becomes a specimen, and your thoughts begin to dry up.

I feel like I'm in a small bottle. At first, I was very scared and flew around in this little bottle. Soon, I was tired, and the smell in the small bottle made me sleepy. Heart ached, body low-paying jobs. At the last moment when I lost my will, I remembered the meadow and her best days. ...

A few days later, a beautifully decorated butterfly specimen sold at a high price in the market. ...

I stand in front of you, afraid to breathe loudly, dare not make a noise to make you fly, dare not touch you with my eyes, for fear that you will be broken when touched lightly, together with my colorful dreams.

I looked back. I put the specimen in the most conspicuous place in the room. Then I came to the window and looked at the city made of reinforced concrete, thinking of the days when the grass was growing and butterflies were flying.