2, autumn wind, Dongting wave leaves. -Qu Yuan's "Nine Songs, Sweet Lady"
3, the frost is full of painstaking efforts, sprinkling Qianfeng Qiuyedan. -Qi Jiguang's "Wang Quetai"
The Yangtze River is green in spring, and the lotus leaves are as big as money. -Zhang Ji's "Spring Biequ"
5. The wind is dark red and the green leaves are full of branches. -Du Mu's Painful Poems
6, Xiang Xiang sells green leaves, and the west wind rises between green waves. -Jing Li's "Passing Huanxisha and Selling Fragrant Leaves"
7. The wind is tight, the geese are high, and the trees are rustling. -Nalan Xingde's "The river despises God, and the wind tights the geese striding high"
8. It is evil to break the fragrance and wine. The west wind urges the phoenix tree to fall. -Li Qingzhao's "Remembering Qin E Yong Tong"
9, the white head sees the yellow leaves, Yan Fu geometry. There is no political success under an empty tree. Zhang said, "Looking at Yellow Leaves in Yuezhou"
10, the wind blows a leaf, and everything is autumn. Crying alone in a foreign land, worrying about guests every year. Don't leave where? When will it stop? There is no freedom for the elderly. -Mutu's early autumn guest house
1 1. After all, the West Lake is in the middle of June. The scenery is different from four o'clock. Lotus leaves are infinitely green. The lotus reflected in the sun is different in color. -Yang Wanli, "Xiao Jian Chun Qing sent Lin Zifang? 》
12, the garden wall is winding, and the willow is invisible. People can see a lamp on a quiet mountain. Lotus leaves are like clouds, and boats roll into Xiling. 》
13, autumn leaves, a little banana, a little sorrow? After the dead of night, after the dead of night Chess that lost snuff? Sigh that Xinfeng solitary hall is left alone. Ten years on the pillow? Jiangnan parents are worried? Everything comes to my mind. -Xu Zaisi's Water Fairy Night Rain.
14, the green direction is uneven, and the initial red color overlaps. The atrium is first swept, and the trees are surrounded by three or two leaves.
15. The exposed frost is faint, but it turns bright in the sunset. And the smoke falling in autumn, drifting thousands of miles. How many birds are hiding in jathyapple? Who is at home with the sound of flies? I don't hate it for a while, watching the breeze cut into colors. -Wu Rong's Red Leaves