In late autumn, the dew is heavy and the frost is deep,
The maple leaves are getting redder and redder.
In the autumn season, read red maple poems,
Appreciate the red maples in autumn,
It is a good time in the world.
"Mountain Travel"
Du Mu, Tang Dynasty
Far up the cold mountain, the stone path is sloping, and there is a home deep in the white clouds.
I park my car and sit in the maple forest at night, the leaves are as red as the flowers in February due to frost.
This is a seven-character quatrain that describes and praises the scenery of mountains and forests in late autumn. The poem shows a moving picture of autumn colors in mountains and forests, with mountain roads, people's houses, white clouds, and red leaves forming a harmonious and unified picture.
Going up the mountain along the winding path, deep in the white clouds, there are still people. I stopped the car because I loved the evening view of the maple forest in late autumn. The maple leaves have been stained by autumn frost and are more beautiful than the spring flowers in February.
"Sauve Acacia"
Southern Tang·Li Yu
One mountain, two mountains,
The mountains are far away, the sky is high, the smoke is cold, the water is cold, Acacia Maple Leaf Pill.
The chrysanthemums are blooming, but the chrysanthemums are withered,
The wild geese are flying high and the people have not returned, and the wind and moon are idle behind the curtain.
One layer after another, overlapping mountains. The mountains are so far away, the sky is so high, the smoke and water vapor are cold and cold, but my thoughts are like flaming maple leaves. The chrysanthemums bloomed and fell, and the days passed. The wild geese in the northern part of the country flap their wings and fly south, but the person I miss has not come back yet. The bright moon shines on the curtain, fluttering in the wind.
"Visiting Autumn"
Li Shangyin of the Tang Dynasty
The wine still blows, but the building is in danger and the hope is exhausted.
The sun sets in Jiang Gao, and the sail mat sees the returning wind.
The smoke is white in the dragon's pond, and the clouds are red in the bird's eye.
Reporting autumn diligently, but with red maples.
The wine I drank was light, and when the wind blew, I woke up. I stood on the tall building and looked far into the horizon. It was almost evening, and only the highlands by the river were still illuminated by the afterglow. The sails of the ship were facing north, and a southerly wind could be seen blowing.
Longtan is shrouded in thin shade, slightly whitening, and the rugged and narrow mountain road is reflected red by the sunset. The only thing that diligently delivers the news of autumn is the red maple leaves.
"Jiangling Worry and Hope for Children"
Tang Dynasty·Yu Xuanji
Thousands of maple leaves turn into thousands of branches, and the river bridge covers the late evening sail.
My heart is like the water of the West River, flowing eastward day and night without rest.
This is a lyric poem. Through the description of the autumn scenery, it expresses the female poet's longing for her distant lover due to her loneliness.
In late autumn, there are thousands of maple trees, and the river bridge is hidden in the maple forest. It's dusk, I haven't seen your sail shadow, I miss you so much. Think of the flowing water of the West River, flowing eastwards from morning to night.
"Youth Travel"
Song Dynasty·Jiang Jie
The maple forest is red and the late smoke is green, and the guests are full of thoughts.
In the past twenty years, no one has grown bamboo, but they still borrow the name bamboo.
The spring breeze has not yet passed, but the autumn breeze has arrived, and everything is light with age.
I just compose a song by chanting and chanting leisurely all my life.
This poem starts with a description of the scenery, and through the description of the scenery, it expresses the sorrow of wandering in the rivers and lakes after a subjugated country.
The maple forest is red, and the evening smoke is green. Every day, I face the gulls that live in the water town of Tingzhou, and the place is full of the melancholy of exile and wandering. I love bamboo by nature. I have been homeless and have no land to grow bamboo for 20 years, so I still borrow bamboo as my name.
The spring breeze has not yet blown away, and the autumn wind has arrived. As I get older, I despise all earthly fate. I just chant my life's experiences on the idle water and compose them into the songs of boatmen and fishermen.