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翻開你的書，總是飄起醇香縷縷，引人沉醉。
真想問你是否曾以此書下酒，
你似乎了解我的心意，怡雅的對我微笑著。
你愛花，愛小草，
更愛拈下嫣紅的一瓣，青青的一葉，
把他們輕輕的夾在書頁裡，像保留美麗的回憶一樣。
我說你：不愛鮮花愛殘瓣，何苦來？
你笑說：枝上鮮花固然美，書裡殘瓣有餘香。
難怪你書書綴花葉，冊冊飄醇香。
It took me a while to find this passage that I used to like quite a bit.
It's not a poem, but it draws a nice image, which I still enjoy, even today.
And as I was searching for it (cuz I only remember a little bit),
I found out that it was from a question of Mandarin exam.
What does that say about my poetic sense?
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