The rustling autumn wind attacked me mercilessly and eroded my soul.
I am walking alone in a foreign land, accompanied by only the skinny old horse who gets along with me day and night. Wandering for many days, it has long been as tired as me. I dragged it and stumbled forward, hoping to spend the night at someone else's house, but there seemed to be no end in sight in front of this desolate ancient road. Just like my current state of mind, after today, I don't know if there will be tomorrow, so I can only take it one step at a time.
I led the old horse to a drooping old tree and looked at the few fragile dead branches left. I can't help thinking how vibrant it is in the season of being in the mood for love. But now, the old tree in front of us has lost its luster and become dim, without the shadow of life in it. The vines wrapped around it have withered and look so fragile. In those days, how vigorous it was! Because leaning against the tree, I grow so fast and climb so high. When it gets old, it can no longer stand the ravages of wind and rain and can only die silently. The crows coming home at dusk broke the silent sky. Although it shows some vitality, it is monotonous and harsh.
I pulled the old horse and walked on. I see a clear stream. There is a small wooden bridge only one foot wide on the stream, and the boards are uneven and extremely simple. The stream is spraying water, so free, so cheerful, so carefree. Listening to the sound of running water, the melancholy mood has a faint relief.
In the dark sky, there were wisps of light smoke coming from that family, and the smell of Daoxiang came head on. I looked back, and the yellow window paper reflected a happy smile of a family of three. Look back at yourself, lonely, even with the old horse, you can't show a trace of warmth. My home is in a distant hometown.
Heartbroken people are in the end of the world, wandering, wandering, wandering into the distance.
2. At dusk, the afterglow of the sunset spreads all over the earth.
The former green vines, such as green waterfalls, have long withered, leaving only withered branches and leaves, and the green trees in summer have long since grown old, leaving only hollow trunks. Crows seem to lament that autumn has come, and then fly to the blurred sky with their thin wings.
A small bridge that I don't know when it was built swayed slightly, and the water flowed tirelessly. Look at the sparse village, the smoke is curling up. I'm afraid the people inside have got together and had a meal talking and laughing.
Along this winding path, I wonder if I can go back to my home along this path. The west wind followed, and the cold penetrated the heart. The old horse seems to be shivering in the cold wind.
Unconsciously, the sunset was out of sight,
Sad is sad, people are at the end of the world, when can I return to my home?