I love wormwood, not only because it has become a label in festivals, but also because it occupies a place in my name, is accepted, appreciated and proud. A person absorbs the fragrance of earth in his name. I use an early morning footprint to mark May, a smoggy memorial, and good luck shared in a traditional festival.
I love wormwood not only because it has become a well-known needle inflammation, but also because of its wonderful fragrance. The fragrance in the air can burn a waist in summer and drive away annoying mosquitoes. It can be regarded as a barrier to the mosquito world in summer.
I love mugwort leaf, not because it is simple and ordinary, but because of its growth, the essence of the sun and the moon, the natural medicinal growth, its unique value, and its whole body is a treasure. No matter where you are, or on the cliff, or by the river, it grows luxuriantly, hugs each other, is distributed in every corner and exudes fragrance. Fate is destined to be used by people and play a role. Perhaps this is the self-sacrifice of Xiang.
I love wormwood not only because it is a symbol of auspiciousness and health, but also because it is small, uncontroversial, unattractive, sentimental and fragrant. Oh, just once, it was vigorously picked and sought after in Duanyang, which turned into praise and hope of life and became a projection on the road to the end of the world.
I seek my glory in wormwood. I was a graceful little fairy in my last life. My tears have been dyed fragrant for several years. Before my death, a wisp of gas field exudes fragrance, permeates the skin, smoothes the pulse, forms a special kind of flower inflammation, and with a unique breath, it is dedicated to all parts of life to recuperate.
Xiao Ai, who has fallen into the world, is tracked everywhere, visible in the sun and fragrant in one hand, as a commemoration of May.