Autumn is a season destined to be sad, desolate and solemn and touching.
In the morning, everything is still in the milky morning fog, which shows that summer is over. When the autumn wind blows, the fallen leaves fly, and the air is filled with a rotten smell, but the fallen leaves fall from the trees, heavy and melodious.
Dusk has arrived, a touch of sunset glow has dyed the sky red, clouds are embedded in Phnom Penh, and several birds are flying in the sky. The singing of birds in and out seems to be taken away by the poor river. The fallen leaves on the steps have turned yellow and there are some black spots on them. I couldn't help bending down, picking up a fallen leaf and playing with it in my hand, turning over the petiole and throwing it away.
Walking on a lonely road. I remembered my childhood for a moment. Childhood is the most precious and gorgeous page in my diary, because my childhood is like spring, with picturesque scenery, flowers and birds, laughter and laughter ... Seeing children and mothers in the distance, I seem to see the way my grandparents took me to the market when I was a child, and the way my mother led me to play. ...
A question flashed through my mind: Did the fallen leaves have their own childhood? The answer is of course: yes! This is a spring full of vitality. The gurgling streams tinkle, the grass sticks out of the ground, wild flowers bloom everywhere in Shan Ye, larks sing in the forest, and children fly kites on the grass. At this time, he is full of hope for life, growing and growing. Who gave it life? It's their parents, the fallen leaves of last autumn!
"Falling red is not heartless, but turning into spring mud is more protective of flowers." The fallen leaves are reluctant but selfless, seemingly leaving quietly but creating a new life! Because they turn themselves into nutrients and feed a new generation!
Everything in the world has a unique way to prolong life, and the contribution of leaves is the most tragic one! Today, the fallen leaves I just threw away have done what his ancestors did. The scene before me is blurred in my eyes. This is the meaning of leaf life!
The setting sun gathered the last ray of afterglow sprinkled on the earth, and the previous fallen leaves were buried by other fallen leaves, or went to the place where he should go with a gust of wind.
I think, leaves are like this, so are people? After all, one day, all our elders will walk into the earth, and we will be like fallen leaves-dream first, then pay, and finally end our lives and enter eternity. Life is like this. If you say he is more important than Mount Tai, he is more important than Mount Tai. If you say he is lighter than a feather, he is lighter than a feather. The most important thing is to know: how many lives have you built in your life and how hard-won your life is.
In the breeze, I remembered the sad, bleak and solemn autumn, the amazing but sacred leaves, and my family who worked hard for you.
He lost the will to play with things and indulged in singing and dancing all day, completely forgetting that it was nothing more than bullying himself. He, a pronoun emperor, was inspired by fate. "The country is poor and poetry prospers the wild", and the shame makes him compassionate and graceful. Even though he was angry and sad when he destroyed the servant of the country, he had no choice but to "go to the east building alone" to avoid "a river flowing eastward" He was the last ruler of the Southern Tang Dynasty. He is Li Yu.
You haven't discussed much about Li Yuhe. If you want to write about him, it's just a moment's thought, just because of his talent, his fate and his extraordinary. He is like a simple and ignorant child. But he was born in the family of emperors, so he had to shoulder the heavy responsibility of conquering the world. Obviously, he doesn't want to bear it, and he can't bear it. Concession became his only choice.
In the eighth year of Kaibao in the Northern Song Dynasty, he broke his hometown on November 27th. Li Yu leads the younger generation and people. I declined. North to the capital of song dynasty and south to the Tang dynasty.
I have to deny that he is a good poet and a bad poet. In his later years, he wrote more about the hard and cold life of the court, and his style was soft. However, this is not the life he longs for, so it always gives people insight into the fullness and helplessness. However, his later works reflect the pain of national subjugation in a large number, with profound artistic conception, sincere feelings and refreshing language, and tell me too much bitterness and pain with one song after another.
"There was a spring breeze in the small building last night, so my country couldn't bear to look back at the moon." When his country was destroyed, he lived in a prison house, listening to the east wind and looking at the bright moon. How did he feel? I'm afraid only a delicate person like him will have such feelings. "The jade fence should still be there, but the ink has changed." Sang Tian sang Tian, things are different, even if everything is full of spring, it still can't reach the winter at the top of his mouth. The palace of the past, endless melancholy, singing and dancing, intertwined scenes no longer exist, and poetry is just an echo.
I can't guess what his state of mind was when he drank that glass of wine, but I always feel that such an ending is not necessarily a bad thing for him-such a romantic person, a versatile person, will eventually want to muddle along at home and in prison, which is the greatest punishment for him.
He doesn't have to worry about the country and officials, but he has no choice, right? He doesn't have to bear the responsibility he can't afford for this world, does he? He, like the fallen leaves in autumn, turns from rich to rich with gentle and docile attitude, and finally returns to dust, nature and silence.
In autumn, I walked on a large leaf, and the sun shone through some bare branches and fell on the leaves to form mottled spots. They were slightly crisp and let people put it down. Open his poetry collection, read it carefully, and try to understand it in the softest place. Autumn wind mixed with salty sadness is a century-old change of stars, but the memory is still clear, for the sake of the rising leaves, for the sake of autumn, and for the sake of integrity.
If the branches have leaves, if there are leaves in the heart, what's the trouble with blowing the autumn wind?
The cool autumn wind picks up the fallen leaves scattered all over the floor, turning them into only butterflies, and then falling in despair. The trembling leaves on the branches finally couldn't resist the temptation of the wind, broke free from their mothers' hands, threw themselves into the embrace of the earth, and used their bodies as nourishment to give birth to a new generation of life.
I look at you quietly, hoping to contribute silently like you.
It was a bleak autumn afternoon and the school organized a performance. How much I want to perform on stage, but the teacher thinks I am more suitable for behind-the-scenes work. I am very wronged: why can't I perform on stage? Although I am very unhappy, this is the teacher's arrangement, and I have to work hard as a behind-the-scenes worker. Maybe the teacher will look at me with new eyes.
Now, I'm busy. When the actor wanted to change clothes, I held my clothes behind me and became a big hanger. When the actors wanted to drink water, I watched for fear that my makeup would be damaged ... The actors called me around and walked a few times, and I was out of breath and exhausted. After the performance, I will move the props down and put them in the prop room.
No, just after moving the props, it was the turn of a singing classmate to play. I told her repeatedly not to be nervous before playing, but she was ungrateful, held her head high and left proudly. I hit a nail and stood there in embarrassment. When her loud singing sounded in the recording studio, my heart suddenly knocked over the seasoning bottle, and the sweet, sour, bitter and salty came up.
Very not easy to play to the end, the in the mind a mess. "If you cut it again, it will be chaotic!"
Taking a deep breath, I rubbed my legs numb from standing for a long time and walked out of the already empty performance hall to the quiet path. A gust of autumn wind blew and rolled up a layer of fallen leaves on the ground. The fallen leaves whirled in the air, falling slowly and silently on the brown land.
Ah! I can't help feeling: what makes them pay so selflessly? I should also be like a fallen leaf, singing in the rustling autumn wind, selfless dedication, asking for nothing in return. As Gong Zizhen, a poet in the Qing Dynasty, said, "Falling leaves are not heartless things, but turning into spring mud protects flowers more." There is also Zheng Banqiao's poem: "There is still a strong temper, and there must be wind in the east, west, north and south."
I bent down to pick up a fallen leaf and put it in a book. Will be the most beautiful treasure in my heart!
Although it is March in spring, some yellow leaves have been swept in the clean area in the morning. Fallen leaves, why are there leaves in every season? Seeing these leaves always reminds me of an incident that happened last autumn.
That morning, my cousin and I went to license her new electric car. When I arrived at the town police station, I found the clerk, an elderly man, and I said, "Grandpa, give this car a license plate." The old man has a kind heart. He said softly, "Oh, little girl, today is Saturday, and you can't get a license plate according to the regulations. You can go to the market to buy it tomorrow. Will you come tomorrow? " As soon as I heard this, I was anxious and said, "Look, just this one. Do it. We have work tomorrow! " The old man thought for a moment and said, "Do you have an ID card? Your parents will do. " What's the use of "ID card? This car has an invoice. " "Only the invoice. I must follow the rules. " "Grandpa, we have come a long way, so you can make an exception ..." No matter how hard I try, he just won't allow it. As soon as I got out of the door, I said angrily to my big cousin, "This old man is really stubborn. I don't think he needs to do it for a long time ... "Before I finished, I saw my cousin glaring at me and saying," How can you say that? He has retired, but he gave up his rest and came here to help. What's more, there's nothing wrong with people following the rules. You're fine ... ""I, I ... "What can I say? I shook my head to get rid of that trouble. A yellow leaf floated gently into the basket, and I just looked at it, lost in thought. ...
Fallen leaves, a symbol of autumn! Messenger of autumn! The embodiment of autumn! Although yellow, withered and trampled underfoot, I find that you seem more beautiful and worthy of respect than that green leaf!
At the beginning, you were also a green leaf. You also bring spring and vitality to the world. For spring, you contribute your youth; In autumn, you decorated the earth. You lost a lot, but you didn't complain. You have become a dead leaf. You should turn it into fertilizer and blend with the earth silently.
I picked up another leaf of love and hid it deeply in my beloved book.
Excellent composition of fallen leaves 5 faint autumn, slightly cool, leaning alone in front of the porch window, watching a fallen leaf render autumn colors; Look at a season's falling flowers, vicissitudes of life, study a pen and ink, write your thoughts in lush appearance according to the autumn wind, let your tenderness be like water in your heart, and bind your graceful thoughts to the plain notes of the years. ...
The imprint of fleeting time is mottled all over the ground. Do you remember? My beloved daughter is sitting on the swing, and my eyes are gently and shallowly on her; The regretless smile on her brow is the warmth of dancing lightly and wearing lightly. She is used to pushing her where she can reach out and catch the clouds. Every time she looks at the sky, it seems that she can reach out and touch it, but it is so out of reach. Looking at her rippling smile, listening to her silvery laughter, feeling the lingering breeze and flowers, trance is a dream.
Gently collect a wisp of flower fragrance, and the garden once echoed with poems between my lips. Watching butterflies jump in the flowers for a while, one after another, one after another, so quiet, so quiet, which leads to those dancing hearts. ...
Now a young leaf is broken, but a tree is vicissitudes. In my dream, I don't know where I am. Wake up from a dream, dull pain, flash across my mind.
I, Li Yu, want to cry when my country is defeated. In this fleeting ferry, I stopped, turned around and looked at the pain and injury, happiness and warmth, as well as the cold and loneliness in the depths of my soul, which made my eyes dark. Sometimes, I will hide in an empty corner and recall the beauty taken away by time alone. Sometimes in the dead of night, I suddenly feel that I don't want to sleep, but I don't want to sleep. This residual petal can only become fragments of life after the flowering period.
There is only a wisp of gauze-like white clouds in the blue sky, and the sunset is rendering the warmth and glory when I am about to say goodbye. I have built a thick wall in my heart to protect the weak places and try not to get hurt again. ...
The cold wind, the faint moon, the swaying shadows, the perfect and bleak moment when the leaves fall, my heart is cold, turning into a piece of broken leaves and the last sadness on the branches, shrinking and trembling naked in the cold wind. ...
Scattered dead leaves, hiding in an unknown corner, rotate, solidify time, solidify the wrong point, and the little yellow reflects the scar. I don't know whether it hurts the heart of the leaves or mine. ...
The autumn wind blows the golden autumn leaves into the sky bit by bit, dancing with the wind, like a group of golden butterflies returning to winter. After bidding farewell to the flying sky, they landed slowly and reluctantly. There is also the rustle of yellow leaves in the wind, and the laughter of children like silver bells, which floats with the wind but will not disperse. I walked quietly to a tree covered with crumbling yellow leaves, carefully picked up a golden leaf that was swept into the air by the autumn wind and flew down, and played with it carefully. It is no longer the beautiful green leaves in spring and summer, but as old as people, and the oil is exhausted. On its leaf surface, the fine and delicate texture has long been blurred, just like the weather-beaten face of the old man, which is covered with the marks of time and years. Fallen leaves, in his life, only played an ordinary role. Perhaps, it is a trivial role. Ordinary, can be said to be synonymous with it. However, it knows how to repay kindness and know how to be grateful. Leaves fall to the root, but a simple word implies this truth, that is gratitude. The tree gave birth to him and raised him, and this little leaf also played its greatest role, silently providing a little bit of energy for the tree. Of course, it thinks this is not enough. So, when the autumn wind blows, it jumps up, and with the autumn wind falling under the big tree, it lies quietly, treating itself as the nourishment for the big tree in winter, waiting for decay. When he was lying on the root of a big tree, I didn't know it was lying quietly in my heart, taking root here and growing into a towering tree. Gratitude is a kind of gratitude and a manifestation of expanding one's life. All for one and one for all. If everyone does this, the world will be really harmonious. However, even small leaves know how to be grateful, but some people don't. On the contrary, they will bite the hand that feeds them. A drop of water is rewarded with a spring, but a small leaf knows this truth. At the last moment, I still have a true childlike innocence. Golden leaves are flying in the air, but he doesn't know it's quiet. In the sky, that song contains the movement of life meaning, which was drawn at the last minute. Fallen leaves will return to the roots, and the roots are not just fallen leaves.
It's been seven days since winter, and the cold wind is blowing outside the window. One day, I was walking in the park of the community and saw a golden leaf floating down from the tree, spinning in mid-air, dancing a beautiful waltz, and then slowly falling to the ground. This humble leaf has aroused a lot of imagination.
I took a look at this fallen leaf, then slowly leaned down, gently picked it up with my hands, and then gently stroked its body and studied it. It is like a small cattail leaf fan, with many uneven lines on its surface. Suddenly, my mind is full of thoughts, thinking: What beautiful leaves, it's a pity that winter has come, its short life has ended, and it has fallen, but why should such beautiful leaves fall? So I thought about it for a long time.
It turns out that winter has come, the climate is cold and dry, and there is little water. If the leaves don't fall off, half of the water absorbed by the tree will be sucked away by the leaves, and the tree will dry up and die because of lack of water. So the leaves will sacrifice themselves to keep the whole tree alive.
When I learned the reason why the leaves fell, I felt a little sorry for this beautiful fallen leaf, but for them, it was so regretless to fall under the mother tree. I can't help but be moved by this spirit of sacrificing my life for justice. Holding this leaf, I muttered to myself, "You are really a good boy of uncle and mother. You sacrificed your life for dear uncle and mother." As the saying goes, the fallen leaves return to their roots, and I will take you back to the arms of your uncle and mother! "
So I hurried to the park again, clutching the leaf tightly. The cold east wind still roared like a monster. I came to the park and found the big tree just now. I leaned down again, reached out my hand, carefully dug a hole under the tree, gently put the leaves in and filled it with soil. May it turn into a pinch of spring mud, nourish the tree and accompany the dear mother tree all her life.
Let the leaves fall back to their roots. In my mind, heart and eyes, it seems that the moment when leaves fall is constantly emerging. I saw its body floating flat in the air, and looked at Mother Tree with wistful eyes, as if to extend my little hand to say goodbye to Mother Tree. As if to say, "Goodbye, Mother Tree." Just before landing, a waltz with beautiful leaves appeared in mid-air. At this time, the air seems to have solidified, and the eyes of pedestrians on the road seem to have turned to this touching slow motion. It landed slowly and danced the most beautiful waltz for the tree.
In the cold winter, the north wind blows, and the sun in the twelfth month has lost its heat, and the fallen leaves fall with the wind, forming a golden carpet. Although they have become fallen leaves and lost their lives, their qualities are worth learning, and their lofty qualities of sacrificing themselves for others and righteousness are always there!
The fallen leaves whirled in front of the boy's eyes, and the cold wind blew, which stung his face and heart, but he was still waiting quietly. ...
The man crossed a narrow dirt road. At the end of the dirt road, there is a hut made of thatch and stone. In front of the hut, there is a boy sitting under a mottled tree. His bald skull is unusually bright in the dim sunlight, and his black eyes are more thought-provoking, drifting away with the yellow leaves. ...
The man stood in front of the boy, shivering.
"Who are you looking for?" Before he could speak, the boy would have asked.
He was stunned by the deep eyes on the boy's rosy face. "I got lost after passing through here. Can I have a bowl of water? " The man looked at the boy with ecstasy.
He watched the boy come into the room and sit under the tree, letting the fallen leaves fall in front of him. His eyes are like that hut, losing the temperature of the past.
The boy brought water, and he gulped it down. That's well water, well water at home. He has tasted it countless times, but it doesn't feel so sweet and refreshing now. His desire disappeared, and he experienced the dull happiness again.
The man handed the empty bowl to the boy. He saw the boy looking at the distance, as if waiting, waiting for the arm that warmed him to lift him into the air again, waiting for the tall figure who picked up the fallen leaves under the tree with him, waiting for the sweet smile that could make his mother happy and warm him ... The man knew that this had planted seeds in the child's innocent memory. But it was because of his impulse that he killed people and let this seed sleep. ...
"You ... you are quick to come back! Sin, only three years ... "The boy's eager eyes moistened the man's eyes. Every leaf on the ground is so yellow and mottled, as if he had written down all his unbearable memories, bearing his eternal heartache, and the tears of men are dripping, as if giving the dead leaves hope of waiting for love. ...
The man gently wiped away the tears. "Can I have another bowl?" This time, he and the boy entered the house, and the shabby and warm hut made him sad.
The man drank all the water and squatted down to look at the boy's face carefully. He didn't say anything, just watched silently. He thrust the picture in his arms into the boy's hand. The picture shows a couple and a boy. They smiled, and the leaves beside them danced with the wind, slipping out of the most beautiful arc of this season and reaching into the distance. ...
The autumn wind blows gently, and a fallen leaf falls. Gently picking up this fallen leaf, my thoughts can't help drifting back to my long-lost hometown.
My family has lived here for generations, and everything here contains my feelings Large fields, dilapidated temples, solemn statues, fruits and vegetables in the fields, stones on the ground and small fish swimming in the river are all beautiful pictures of my childhood. A quiet life is always desirable. In my mind, it's the cry of crickets. Eyes full of stars. My grandmother next to me is knitting clothes. I haven't seen such peace for a long time, and I haven't seen the hometown of vegetation for a long time.
Towering trees grow by absorbing nutrients from the soil, and millet can only bear fruit by the earth. People are the same. No matter how talented a person is, he can't leave this land of vast expanse.
Nowadays, many people yearn for the prosperous city and are not satisfied with the simple rural life, so they bid farewell to their families, pack their bags, leave their homeland and set foot on the road to find their ideal paradise. I don't know if they can finally find heaven outside, but they have long forgotten that the land they left is heaven. That well connects the land of my hometown like an umbilical cord. This is a continuous connection and a natural sign.
People always say that self-reliance, self-reliance, hard work will be rewarded. However, in front of the earth, people can never stand on their own feet, because people are plants that walk on the earth. Hometown is like a big tree, feeding us with juice.
People can't live without the land in their hometown.
When I was a child, I always pulled my grandfather's skirt and looked up and asked him, "Why don't you have so much time to go out with us?" Grandpa sighed Gherardini said: "people are old and tired." I thought it was the bitterness of getting old, but now I understand that it may be the infatuation of Grandpa's generation with this homeland.
The place where I live now is a prosperous city. The noise was loud, the cars and horses were noisy, and the peace disappeared. People have become accustomed to the lifestyle of chasing each other. However, every time I toss and turn in the dead of night, I really want to go back to my hometown and relive that quiet and intoxicating lifestyle.
If hometown is a tree, people are like a fallen leaf on the canopy, no matter how it floats halfway, the last place to yearn for is still hometown. The feeling from the crown to the root is probably different!
Excellent composition of fallen leaves 10 "The rustling leaves send the cold sound, and the autumn wind on the river moves the guests." Ye Shaoweng's night book is probably a household name. He described the fallen leaves vividly and beautifully. They were beautiful.
The autumn wind is bleak, and Ye Er people are fully prepared. For the arrival of spring, they left their homes and presented the last waltz with the autumn wind. They spin in the sky with their light bodies, stepping on the rhythm of autumn wind. They are like beautiful golden butterflies, dancing for them. Leaves are at the end of life, but they are still beautiful.
Perhaps the fallen leaves are the embodiment of the beautiful goddess, how considerate. When people are lovelorn, they are also worried; When people are disappointed, they will hang their heads and breathe; But when people are happy, they also look energetic. This is also a kind of emotional beauty.
They can be found in fields, busy streets and roadside of school playgrounds. They are a beautiful landscape of the city and the countryside. On autumn mornings, people listlessly go out to buy breakfast. Ye Er floated down quietly, twisting his waist and turning somersaults, as if to help people refresh themselves. People can't help being infected when they see those naughty fallen leaves. Vitality gives children concentration, gives teenagers fighting spirit and gives the elderly pleasure. All the people are full of vigor and vitality and have started a brand-new day. This is a dynamic beauty.
The silence of fallen leaves is also beautiful. As long as the autumn wind blows, there will be golden carpets, and people will not be told "I am beautiful; I am great ",it just silently adds beauty to autumn. Unlike those gorgeous flowers, they proudly raise their gorgeous faces and show off their brilliance without reservation. The beauty of fallen leaves is also an implicit beauty.
On campus, leaves are everywhere. They lay there quietly without saying a word. Several middle school students came out of the classroom with brooms humming songs. Suddenly, the quiet campus rang with the singing of brooms, and the originally lifeless campus became full of vitality. What are the fallen leaves doing? It turned out that they were laughing and telling us: "Labor is beautiful."
Leaves, your beauty is colorful. I praise you, beautiful fallen leaves.