Author liuyong
The cicadas in autumn are so sad and urgent, facing the pavilion, it is in the evening and a sudden rain has just stopped. All the accounts are not in the mood. I miss places and Lanzhou to urge me to send them. Holding hands and looking at each other, tears swirled in my eyes until there were no words at last, and a thousand words stuck in my throat and I couldn't say it. Missing thousands of miles of smoke and waves, the evening is heavy.
Emotional parting has existed since ancient times, and it is more comparable. It is also a cold autumn festival. Who knows where I am when I am awake tonight? There is a breeze and a waning moon on the bank of Yangliu. Many years later, it should be a beautiful moment in name only. There are many kinds of customs, who are you talking to?