Listen,
The sound of autumn,
The tree shook its arm,
Brush,
This is the voice of yellow leaves.
Listen,
The sound of autumn,
Crickets flap their wings,
"**",
Saying goodbye to the balcony rhymes.
Rows of geese catch up with the white clouds,
Sprinkle a warm reminder;
A gust of autumn wind swept across the field,
Send a harvest song.
Listen,
Walking into autumn,
Walking into this huge concert hall,
Hello, listen to Qiu's voice.
The sound of autumn,
In every leaf,
In every flower,
In every drop of water,
In every unfolded grain.
Listen,
The sound of autumn,
Come in a hurry from afar,
Walk away in a hurry.
Listen,
We heard the sound of autumn.
Beautiful! Figs-for those unknown workers
Jialing Yuqiao was originally published on April 7, 2005 14: 30: 07. The popularity of modern poetry is 1850.
You don't have the charm of peony
You are not as gorgeous as hibiscus.
You flatter the morning glory.
A rose full of thorns.
I like to express myself anywhere.
You are deeply rooted in the earth.
Silently bred in the green leaves
Suck mother earth's milk desperately.
No need to bloom
Only care about the result.
Stand upright
Proud smile, wind and rain are evil.
Don't worry about the loss
But I'm glad to focus on my true feelings.
Simple and unpretentious, straightforward and natural and unrestrained.
Try to forget the cold world.
As long as spring is there.
There is a song of hope that can never be sung.