Blue sky, yellow leaves, and chilly west wind. Fly north and fly south, I wonder who will get drunk in the frost forest.
In a foreign land far away from home, I have been out for half a year, and now it is late autumn, so I can't help but yearn for my hometown.
I remember when early spring came, the old tree sprouted and a thin green vine wrapped around it. But now, the tree has dried up and the vine leaves have withered. Crow in the tree
I cried sadly and soon went back to my nest. It can go home, but what about me? I can only wander outside, my heart is falling, falling ...
Passing a small bridge, there is water spray under the bridge, which seems to be singing the warmth of hometown. Seeing a family in the distance, I can't help thinking of my relatives.
Walking on a dilapidated old stone road, looking around, it is very bleak. I got on the old and thin horse and walked slowly. There is a rustling autumn wind blowing head-on, and my heart is even more.
I feel particularly sad.
The sun is setting, and soon a bright moon will rise. "When will the bright moon shine on me?" I fantasize about meeting again, but at this time I am still far from my hometown.
When can I return to my hometown in a foreign land?
Rewriting of Tianjin Sha Qiu Si (2)
The setting sun gradually sets, the sun listlessly falls into the western hills, and the golden light as precious as gold is put away, and the sunset glow on the horizon gradually fades away. The village is particularly deserted and silent against the afterglow, dragging a long shadow, a few wisps of kitchen smoke rising from the air, and a few dead vines tightly wrapped around the old tree, which looks vicissitudes. Unable to resist the silence of the west, Western jackdaw flew in from a distance. The sunset glow gilded the crow's black feathers. She made a few sad cries from time to time, which made her feel a little sad. She stopped on the bent dead wood, on the gurgling water under the bridge, so quiet and leisurely.
The ancient road is long in the distance, and the west wind is bleak. On the desolate ancient road, I rode my horse and walked slowly. After years of trampling, the horse that has followed me for several years has become skinny. When I think like this, autumn is coming again, and the road is still far away. At this time, I am still wandering outside, alone, cutting constantly, homesickness comes to my mind, bitter and sour.
Rewriting of Tianjin Sha Qiu Si (3)
Now is the third day of entering the ancient road. Looking back, the winding footprints have been buried by the wind and sand; Looking around, the long dust connected with the sky will break my tired heart.
At noon, the sun is still like a brazier, viciously emitting hot light to the ground. At that time, the earth was like a fire, and the boiling flame was burning to devour me. Now, she is smart, kind, gentle and even a little cute. Her light footsteps danced like dragonflies. Plumes of red light sprinkled on the hills not far away, like a warm hand stroking them gently, stroking their wounds burned by the midday sun.
Isn't this the sunset in my hometown that I miss day and night? The warm picture of the past comes back to my mind: our hut is located by the stream, in front of which is a small stone bridge. (m.taiks.com) Every day, I listen to the humming of the flowing water, and then I feel its whispering with the stone bridge with my heart. The happiest moment is to watch the sunset with my brothers and sisters, watch her slide gently behind the mountain with joy, and the distant sky still shines with a faint afterglow. Finally, I watched her leave, leaving a string of golden blessings. ...
But the ruthless war shattered my happy life. In a year's time, I changed from my favorite little son to a homeless tramp. I can only choose to escape. Only this thin horse accompanied me.
From then on, the sunset in my eyes just hung on an ugly old tree with dead branches and vines, which made me sad. Everything is like a dream! The horse neighing, I just came to my senses and found that the sunset has turned into a red but delicate jade plate. The part left on the ground, like a beautiful lip, plays a huge flute on the horizon, but plays a bleak westerly movement.
Alas, look at the horizon, look at the horizon!