Old poems describing autumn scenery include:
"Autumn Scenery"
Tang Dynasty·Sikong Tu
The scenery is difficult to stay, and the spring is hurt and the autumn is resented. . The red leaves fall in the swirling book, and the blue clouds close up in the painting.
"Crossing the Yangtze River"
Tang Dynasty · Ding Xianzhi
Watching the flow in the osmanthus, the empty waves are bright on both sides. Linkai Yangzi Station, mountains out of Runzhou City. The edge of the sea is dark and quiet, and Jiang Hanshuo is blowing. I even heard the sound of autumn pattering under the maple leaves.
"Qiu Ji·The River is Green"
Song Dynasty·Shi Dazu
The river is green, I look at the weary willows and worry about the lotus, and I feel the autumn colors. The abandoned pavilion will be cold first, the ancient curtain will be empty at dusk, and Yancheng will hate the wind the most. Hometown information, love canal into the eyes of the Nanshan green. Thinking of going to the country, who is the guest who has not returned from Jianghan? It is still late in the year, I am skinny and facing the wind, I hear the sound of autumn at night, blowing the silence. The dew is sad, the green light is cold in the house, and I am worried about the white hair on my temples when I turn over the book. Year
"Autumn Path"
Song Dynasty · Bao Siam
The clear yin of fir and bamboo combines, and there is a basis for leisurely travel. It rained for the first time in Liangsheng, and the tranquility suddenly returned to the monks. Insect traces penetrate deep holes, and moss marks connect broken edges. Reflect on the deep recesses and the layers below the peak.
"Autumn Scenery"
Song Dynasty · Lu You
The rain weeps and the apple blossoms grow old, and the wind shakes the ears of weeds. There are noisy local birds in the dark forest, and they are singing in the autumn courtyard. The old learning has become broad-minded, and the original intention has become vague. How old are you still? Who can ask Cang Cang?
"Autumn Scenery"
Song Dynasty · Lu Huizhi
The sound of business has already reached the Wutong, and the night air is cool and the sky is blue. Leaning against the small window and waiting for the bright moon, the purple flute blows through the mignonette wind.
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