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( 1)
Qiu Guang is beautiful, and Juanjuan whispers in the clear lake. Perhaps, this autumn is a shadow, reflected obliquely in the water, showing red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple colors, like a bright water color box. The wind went away lightly, leaving behind the broken words of autumn, like a continuous tune, singing the autumn days lightly. A little careless, suddenly knocked over the watercolor box, the color in the box naturally scattered, flowing, and merged into an autumn color. A pool of autumn water in the lake is full of tenderness and wrinkled by the cool wind, slightly rippling and rippling. Fragmented petals and some fiery red maple leaves dance with the water. Suddenly I heard the fragrance of Chou-heung floating in the form of ripples and drunk the weeping willows by the pool. Occasionally, a dragonfly skimmed over the water and fell into the pool with a thin sound, breaking the loneliness in autumn. By the bridge, the woman watching flowers bowed her head and stared, her eyes drooping. The leaves of the flower fell and were full of injuries. Suddenly, she felt that the autumn heart was torn in two. As a result, the autumn heart is full of poetry, like a natural oil painting suddenly spread out, autumn fairy tales bloom.
(2)
A love that consumes everything, willows are harmonious.
What is striking is the autumn color, which is exciting. That wisp, a cluster, a golden color, drunk half of the countryside. The wind is blowing and poetry is flourishing. Willow is dancing with a tan skirt, gently shaking, and yellow leaves fall, making a rustling sound. Looking around, autumn leaves dye half the sky yellow, dancing like yellow butterflies. In the blink of an eye, the leaves fell and the voice was thin, which disturbed the feelings in my heart and made me lonely and sad. Not far away, the flowers are enchanting and open, and the smiles are like flowers. The warm flowers are rippling in the buildings, and the fragrance is bursting. Such as rouge lightly painted on the face of a beautiful woman, faint, a wisp of fragrance, intoxicating.
In the distant village, the smoke is curling up and the autumn is fading away. In the distance, there are two black spots that slowly come into my sight. Near, it is two children, carrying schoolbags, tandem, brother chasing behind, brother running while laughing and cheering. At this moment, my brother suddenly stopped and stood in front of the flowers. There was a chrysanthemum in full bloom, so he freed a hand and picked it off. Chrysanthemum seemed to understand people's minds, moved back and calmly scolded: "You bad boy, you have never seen a beautiful woman!" " "The elder brother at the back has rushed over, grabbed his younger brother's hand and commanded," Don't pick such beautiful flowers, you are willing to pick them! ""My brother was aroused, and then he laughed. He hugged his brother, hummed a country tune and strode to school. At this time, the wind smiled, and the flowers also smiled, smiling brightly, like children's smiling faces.
(3)
Rolling up the brocade curtain of pearl string, the magnificent castle is empty, only the sky is faint, and the milky head is sprinkled on the earth.
Continuous autumn rain fell in the middle of the night, giving birth to dreams. Flowers fall in dreams and people are heartbroken. After the rain, I looked through the window. The thin and cool air was full of flowers and smelled wet. At this time, the wine has not arrived, and my heart is drunk. I drank a pot of sake and lamented that "autumn wind and autumn rain are evil." Perhaps, the woman with flowers stood in front of the porch window, raised her slender hand, crushed the petals printed with books, threw them out of the window and sprinkled a burst of petals. There is a flute in the distance, which passes through the dust, blows in the cold night, stays at the tender fingertips, and condenses into a touch of emotion in the poet's pen. In a trance, I was drunk with a worry, whipped with a curtain, full of leisure worries.
The rings of the years shattered yesterday's feelings and hopes. Shallow traces, leaving only faint sadness, engraved in my heart. Autumn chrysanthemum outside the porch window is full of rain, calling you again and again with warm voice. As a result, some romantic stories are stuck in the eyebrows. Eyelid, leaving a clear line of tears.
(4)
The moon is high and the clouds are light, and the autumn wind is still there.
The thin fog is like a gauze, shrouded, hazy and sad. At this time, I want to embrace the next month and indulge in the petal rain.
On the horizon, a bluebird hovered in the dark sky and suddenly landed on a branch, listening to the whispers of autumn. Euphemistic and desolate crying drops on the cold night, turning into a trace of melancholy and infecting the heart.
In the dim light, I seem to have passed through a reincarnation, stepping on the footprints of the wind and strolling by the river. On the clear and cold river, there are ripples, waves and wet fog. Gradually, a leaf boat, from far and near, will come by boat, with one end tied with acacia and the other with sadness.
I stopped and tried to keep a boat, but it rowed away and gradually went away, leaving only a little gray memory. Come in a hurry, go in a hurry, what happened to life?
The sound of Liao and Guzheng drifted in from the distant shore and invaded my heart. Telling the eternal sadness and melancholy.
I followed the prestige of the piano, and there was a pure woman on the pavilion, as bright as peach blossom, with almond eyes and eyebrows and pink face. She sat there caressing the piano, and her faint thoughts shook off the keys and shook off the dust of her life. Subtle music slowly slides into the eardrum, which is cool and penetrating.
I listened, intoxicated by the wonderful music.
I asked, "Girl, why are you so sad!"
She smiled and said, "How do you know what I'm thinking?"
I said, "Why don't you know that the piano is faint and sad?"
She said: "The past is unbearable and sad!"
I said, "After the autumn wind, life is like clouds. Why are you trapped by love? "
She sighed and recited Li Qingzhao's Slow Whispering:
"Searching, empty, miserable. It is the most difficult to rest when it is warm and cold. "
I also added a postscript: "How can you beat him late when you are in a hurry?" The geese are sad, but they are old acquaintances. "
……
However, ruthless years, rolling red dust, want to say it. At the moment, she and I are sitting on the pavilion, brewing a pot of sake with petals and fallen leaves, drinking in the breeze and getting drunk. Slightly drunk, she fingered the elegant and smooth ancient song "Laugh at the Red Dust" with slender fingers like bamboo shoots. My heart is surging, clutching my sword. In the breeze of Leng Yue, I danced in the sky, where the sword sounded and the petals fluttered with the wind. At this time, I seem to see a pair of colorful butterflies, light and ethereal as a dream, wandering in the melody of guzheng, fascinated by the figure of Iraqis, with delicate fragrance.
(5)
Autumn water is long and autumn chrysanthemum is fragrant. On the endless horizon, Yan Zhen has returned to the south. Autumn wind is like a continuous silk thread, leading the fleeting time, and acacia grows old.
Yesterday, I dreamed of Iraqis, and plain clothes was full of tenderness, and her clothes were flying, and her tears were stained with clear autumn.
Once upon a time, I met you with a clear breeze and a fine moon. Eye contact, laughter fluttering, soft love words, rippling between English and Yi Shui.
Now, after the storm, Iraqis have all gone home, and a round of Leng Yue hangs alone in the starry sky, lonely and lonely. Holding a wisp of breeze, I stood alone in front of the flowers, watching the flowers bloom and fall, and listening to the loneliness and prosperity in my dream. Who is singing in the breeze, silently sprinkling tenderness; Who walks hand in hand with you in the charm of water and watches the flowers bloom on the other side? Unconsciously, tears welled up in my eyes.
Flowers bloom and fall, and things are different. The breeze is intoxicated and the flowers are melancholy. Maybe infatuated waiting can't change your look back. Perhaps, the infatuated watch can't find the warmth of the past.
In this life, although you and I can't hold hands, we can only forget each other in the smoke. Perhaps, everything is fate. At this time, I just want to plug in my wings, fly in the air, cross the Millennium Galaxy, and fly to the end of my dream. All the years are blooming, and I have been drunk for a thousand years.