1, apples in winter, apples are ripe, this is autumn; ? "Grab me, or I'll be buried!" Apples are ripe, this is autumn; ? "Save it for the winter!" Teenagers under trees; Put your hands on your knees and lose your eyes; This is the last apple; Hit the boy on the head; Apples are ripe, this is autumn; "I should hibernate!" The first love met the apple orchard, and you rolled up the girl's hairstyle.
There is a flowery colored comb in front of your sideburns, which reflects your Juan Juan and Yu Rong. You reached out your white hand affectionately, picked up the apple and handed it to me. Pale red autumn is full of fragrance! Just like you and I. I am still dreaming because of infatuation, and a sigh has messed up your hair. At this time, I seem to have drunk a cup of acacia! The cup is full of your love. Under the shade of the apple forest, when did there be a winding path leading to a secluded place? Who stepped on the base of the pagoda in your heart? I still hear your whisper. ...
2. Apples are curled up in the fruit basket; Dry and wrinkled. Father, I'll skin you; But you have no strength to eat; From this moment on, I began to become more and more panic; I'm afraid you can't wake up when you fall asleep; Like now, you doze off in the roar of TV; You bow your head and have a knife on your forehead; Continue carving; This ancient stone used to be green?
Your bent body is like a withered fruit tree; Cleft and emaciated; You cough, leaves on the hillside; Just floating, floating ...; That psychedelic world; It's like living water.
There are ancient poems about apples as follows:
1, Song Nanhai Li Chao; There is autumn wind in the room, and the green leaves are not finished. Misrecognition is like a flower on a branch. I wonder if the pod is scarlet.
2. Yi Yun and Li Zaizhu Qiu Si Song Mei Yao Chen; A leaf dances with the wind, and the feelings of heaven and earth are well known. Will make a hundred fruits and compete for the sound of insects. Ling Tao wants to accept it, but people are thinking about it. A more beautiful sentence, who wrote Zhong's comments.
3. Song Xianggong's "Great Life Facing Six Grandsons"; I'm not sure about the size of the horn, but I know how to pile up the fruit. There are many pomegranates and persimmons at the bottom of the temple next to Xingnv's machine. The blue wrinkled purple shell is like a fist chestnut, and the jade liquid muscle is like a bowl of pears. May the immortal live with the rest and future generations.