Late Blooming Flowers Shy Poem by Yilong River

The temperature of a flower illuminates half an inch,
The prophecy should bloom in the season of blooming.
The naughty little boy hid deep in the bud,
Ignore the call of brothers and sisters.

The temperature of that flower is a bit late,
Over the fruitful land on the cold ground,
In the world where the autumn wind falls,
The dried branches are blooming alone.

Late blooming flowers shy,
Heavy rain is not like heavy rain, like cotton,
Gales are not like gales, like clouds,
Frozen in the mountains and rivers,
No trace was seen overnight.

It will always be a late flower,
It will always be a late flower,
Rising power transforms into the home of a deceased person,
Tens of millions of postures stand up,
Light up a persistent doubt.

A long time has passed,
It's another year late flowers.
Endless rivers,
There are also conspiracies.

Don't ask how long it will last,
No one stays in the blur.