Autumn wind strikes, and cold wind blows and erodes people's bodies. Autumn rain is falling, and raindrops gradually fall to the ground in the mosaic of autumn wind. The road has been washed away by raindrops. Thick dust mixed with raindrops, like long-lost lovers, embrace each other and enjoy happy moments. Just like the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl meet once a year on the Magpie Bridge, bearing the hearts of expectation and yearning together. With painful happiness, when you get it, you will learn to cherish it. Petals are broken, falling flowers are flying, dyeing is parting, telling injuries, illusory laughter and tasting the true meaning.
Recently, I always spend my time writing my composition and forget to go out for a walk. Maybe I am not used to this strange city, maybe I am too lazy, maybe I am used to staying at home. Typing my own words with the keyboard, my heart wandered and struggled in my own article at that moment. Flowers break people's melancholy. When writing sad endings for the first time, they always write beauty. Maybe they are always escaping from the darkness of reality and want beauty to make up for the emptiness in their hearts. Maybe my faith tells me that the future will be beautiful and people will not always struggle in pain. When writing about pain, my heart is also tangled, perhaps fighting against my own words. Walking on the road of the community, autumn wind and autumn rain alternate, and I am holding an umbrella. Walking in the rain is full of waves in many people's hearts, and it is more beautiful with the accompaniment of the wind. "Guan Guanluo dove, in Hezhou. My fair lady, my gentleman, I think it's a perfect match to go through thick and thin. Breathing gas, in the direction of hazy eyes, this land is foggy, will you get lost? When people are confused, I must abide by my own moral standards, and my heart will clearly remind myself. Falling on the ground and looking at a little yellowed leaves will inevitably make people feel distressed, and life will leave because of the wind and rain. Are people so fragile? If you encounter setbacks, you want to end your life or your heart hits the bottom and you can't get up again. It can only be said that these people are cowards, they are not firm enough when they meet things, and they retreat from the game. In the end, I don't think I need to blame anyone, I can only eat my own fruit.
I picked up the fallen leaves on the ground with my hands and wanted to keep them in my book. Occasionally put down the book and quietly appreciate its beauty, and continue its beautiful fairy tale. "Falling red is not heartless, but turning into spring mud is more protective of flowers." How precious, after the sacrifice, continue to make their own contributions to the latecomers. How many people can do this and contribute silently. Love on TV is far away from us. In my eyes, as long as it is simple, it is enough for two people to have fun every day. The gloomy tree, looking at the devastated trunk, felt a little sad and began to giggle. Life has experienced ups and downs, just like a tree, more and more firm and powerful. "How can you see a rainbow without experiencing wind and rain?" What a philosophical discourse. For a determined person, setbacks in life are the cornerstone to lead him to success. For the weak, this is hell, and you will never get out. Don't always complain about the injustice of life, take out your courage and confidence to create your miracle for the world.
Rain splashed behind me, feeling a little cold, and adjusted my umbrella backwards. Behind this adjustment, I saw the deployment of the road of life. When you do something wrong or do something wrong, you should change your thinking to adjust your frozen thoughts in the past and try to make things perfect. Love used to be so lingering, but when it is painful and inappropriate, you should give up that painful love as soon as possible. Maybe the next love is your paradise. Marriage is not like this. You need mutual support to make your life happy. After thinking about it, sometimes you can put down your life and stop torturing yourself. The beautiful road in the future still needs you to explore, don't get stuck in one road. The soil becomes looser and absorbs water better. This plays an important role in plant growth and the continuation of life. The thin rain is watering love with the wind, and nature is always so sweet to my cheerful heart.
It's raining harder and harder, so I have to stop. In this bleak autumn, it is inevitable to be a little sad. In the autumn rain, I tasted the true meaning of nature and life. Whether nature can read lies in her heart. We should cherish the beautiful scenery endowed by the surrounding things and appreciate the philosophy endowed by nature. That precious natural philosophy can't be bought by money, as long as a sincere heart is enough to pick up nature. Nature's love for you can only be returned with heart, so that more people can analyze it.
2. Love songs that share joys and sorrows
I am a ray of silver, I am a beautiful pearl, I am rain, lightning indicates the beginning of my trip, and rainbow announces the end of my trip.
It was the melody of the wind that followed, which made me put aside the shyness of girls and dance in the air. He is a gentle breeze, I am a drizzle; He is the wind and I am the rain; He is the cold wind, and I am Yu Xue. People say that wind and I are tacit understanding and a natural couple. Because of this, I am always intoxicated with a little satisfaction and happiness.
However, uncertainty is the essence of the wind, and coming and going without a trace is his characteristic. Feng said he was going to wander, he was going to travel, and he asked me to wait for him for ten years. How do I know the vicissitudes of ten years, how do I know the weight of commitment? I promised him.
One year has passed, two years have passed, and I have no news at all. On windless days, I dance alone in the air, lost and desolate. Five years have passed, and six years have passed. I miss the wind and feel deeply grieved. On windless days, I was sick, and the attack of sandstorm made me understand that I was just a weak little woman. I began to hate the wind and myself. I am depressed, I am desperate, and I have fallen.
At this time, the rainbow appeared. Rainbow is a sunny and confident young man. He listened to my story and told me to be strong, life is colorful, and he likes watching my aerial dance very much. So every time I finish dancing, he will draw a rainbow of seven colors on the horizon and give me a hand. Through him, I made new friends, such as Cai Yun and Lu, and my life became better again. Until one day, Hong put a colorful ring on my ring finger and proposed to me. I know that the calm and sunshine that Hong gave me can never be given by the wind. I nodded silently. At that moment, I felt that the wind was far away from me.
But like many cliche TV stories, at my wedding, a sudden gust of wind blew me away from the rainbow. I don't know how far the wind has taken me or where I am. I only heard the wind roaring, saying that I betrayed him and that I was a faithless bitch. Looking at the ferocious face of the wind, I suddenly had to laugh. The person I once loved wholeheartedly was so selfish that I didn't choose how smart he was.
I broke free from the wind and began to run away. The wind asked, "Are you going to find him?" I said yes. The wind sneered, "If you dare to step out of my territory, I will kill you." I don't believe the wind can be so heartless. Go ahead. The wind really pulled out the sword and stabbed me in the chest. I covered my bleeding chest, and my heart was dying. The wind threatened, "Still going?" I answered categorically, "Yes." The wind sneered, "OK, I'll go with you. I'll kill him in front of you, and then I'll take care of you. Go! " I know that the wind is what it says, so I made a compromise with tears in my eyes and wrote an agreement with the blood in my chest: I won't look for a rainbow in this life, but I won't mend it with the wind. I will be lonely all my life, as long as the wind doesn't hurt the rainbow. The wind roared away and the agreement was covered with my blood and tears. That night, there was a river of blood, and lightning was our witness.
3. Sunset-Huang Shoudong
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The old elm is still standing behind the old man, in the shade of Cang Sang, silently talking to the depths of the blue sky. The old man heard the mysterious and attractive language that seemed close at hand and far away.
Mature crops in the field are soaked in the sunset, which makes autumn more mellow and intoxicating. Where it was cut, shiny ridges and black land were exposed.
The old man smoked and was as silent as a ripe crop.
There are chickens crowing. The old man saw a reed cock holding a Du Lu Gu ear majestically, and a group of hen wives ran over to compete earnestly and excitedly.
There is a dog barking. The old man saw an innocent and lovely flower puppy crouching down, pursed its ass, cocked its tail, stared at its small eyes and barked at a bug to show its courage.
There are children crying and women scolding. The old man saw the child exaggerating his pet with his rich tears, and the old man saw the woman showing off her kindness with her loud cry.
There is the sound of striking matches. The old man saw the burning straw in the hearth, the boiling water in the iron pot, the smoke from the kitchen rising from the roof with the fragrance of new autumn, and the sunset immediately became orange.
The old man smoked slowly and felt these scenes bit by bit. These scenes are ordinary, as ordinary as water and sunshine in every day of his life. But today, these scenes are so kind, warm and wonderful that he is deeply moved. These scenes should be the scenery in the painting, the old man thought.
The old man suddenly realized that he had lived in the scenery in this painting for eighty years, but he didn't know it. Maybe it won't be long before he walks out of this picturesque scenery-it seems that the old man just realized that this scenery is so beautiful and so intriguing. No matter how long it takes, this painting will still be full of his indelible homesickness-the recognition of the old man.
The sunset gazed at the old man. Sunset feels that this moment of the day is for the elderly. In the impression of sunset, the old man's face is full of a deep old chrysanthemum, which is hung on his head by his warm snow and ice. The root of tenacious life jumps on his hand, and the old man's bare neck is bronze that has faded and rusted.
The old man's eyes were cloudy and dim. But the sunset read the glory of life through the darkness. In this irresistible glory, the sunset is more ruddy, full, mature, magnificent and sunny.
The old man is smoking a cigarette. The old man's bong is very bright. When he smokes, the sunlight is sucked into his mouth from the hookah. The old man felt the sunshine shining on the tip of his tongue, and he tasted the sunshine. Just like the days he experienced, only a faint aftertaste can appreciate the sweetness. The old man's heart is full of red, bright, warm and warm feelings.
In the sunshine of orange, there is a crisp sound of cutting grass. The old man listened attentively and saw the polished sickle. He felt the excitement of wiping the blade with his fingers. He saw sorghum blushing and Xiaomi hanging his head, waiting for him quietly like a bride with heavy makeup. He plunged into the ground with a sickle soaked in the sun and steaming. He holds the heavy ears of grain, and the full golden ears of grain touch his muscles tense with excitement, which makes him feel a wonderful 18 year old pleasure. Stop! Kaka! ! Kaka Kaka. ! ! He danced the sickle skillfully and eagerly, as if he were conducting a grand concert. He doesn't know what sound will be more harmonious, vivid, pleasing to the ear and intoxicating than harvesting the autumn tunes he raised himself ... Kaka, Kaka, Kaka. ...
The old man wrapped another bag of cigarettes and lit it. The sunset became more pure and mellow in his hookah.
Several children ran past, laughing and singing. The spring in the sunset was pure and the flowers were brilliant. The old man didn't seem too far away when he heard it. A crisp children's voice stirred up an old nursery rhyme on the soft and delicate wicker:
Aunt chun, aunt chun.
Red coat and green trousers
Send flowers and grass.
Send a rhododendron flower.
The cuckoo is called cuckoo.
Urge dad to grow beans and mom to grow food. ...
So the old man jumped back to the spring with his mouth up. His clothes are very old, with patches showing meat, but the grass is brand-new green, the sky is brand-new blue, and the field is brand-new ridge. That spring is a brand-new dream. ...
The old man smoked a cigarette and smacked his lips. He felt that the sunset was redder, so red that he was about to drip juice. His body is also a little dry.
So the old man ran back to the summer when he was twelve years old. He ran to the river in the west of the village, made several dives and made several dog ditches ... When he came back, there were drops of water on his bare head, mud on his bare feet and a pile of buns in his hand. ...
The old man saw that the little loach was still jumping and swinging its tail, so he reached out and touched its face. But his face, which has been cultivated by years, can't find a trace of water like a dry field after a long drought ... Oh, the cool river has long lost fish and water, and the unforgettable game of bathing and fishing has quickly become an ancient fairy tale for children now!
The old man sighed silently, and his face was full of longing. He asked the sunset silently, where have all the fresh loaches swam, and where can I find clear and bright water?
There is a heavy breath coming. The old man saw a yellow ox carrying heavy autumn grain into the village. The old man saw the sunset and put a thick halo on the cow. The old man saw the earth shaking deeply at his feet. The old man saw a cloud sighing heavily on the horizon. The old man saw the taut muscles of the cow. The old man remembers that he let it go yesterday, chased it, loved it and scolded it. But today, he has no strength to sigh, and the ox is still wheezing to pull the full car.
The old man sighed silently again. How many lifetimes, people have changed from one crop to another, lazier, sharper and smarter than crops, so people are delicate, weak and extravagant. Only the cow is willing to pull the cart to eat grass, and nothing else ... The old man reached out to touch the uneven back of the cow. But the cow kept walking by.
What is floating in front of me ... ah, is it that butterfly-the handsome butterfly he lost with that little girl called smiles send us light? They almost caught the butterfly, but it flew away from them, flying far and far, and he chased it far and far. ...
The old man stretched out a hand. It has been a long time. Finally, the old man felt an elf flying from the distant past and falling lightly into his hands. The old man knows that this is the butterfly he and she lost. He felt that butterflies were tired of flying, so they slept like fallen leaves in the old man's dry, warm and bleeding hands.
The old man held the leaf to calm himself down and not disturb it. After a while, a breeze blew. The old man opened his hand and carefully released the leaf. So the old man saw a beautiful butterfly flying into the bright sky in the sunset. ...
The old man took a sip of his cigarette and realized that the fire in the ashtray had gone out. He took out his tobacco bag and put the jar in it. Looking up, he smelled the smell of Xishan being baked golden by sunset. The fragrant distant mountains once gave birth to many of his dreams. He used to firewood on that mountain. He once picked up stones on that mountain. He used to drive away wolves on that mountain. He once hunted wild boar on that mountain. He once trampled the mountain under his feet. He once held the mountain tightly in his arms. He once dreamed of the woman in his heart with her head resting on the mountain. He used to stand at the top of the mountain and look back at the mountain outside ... Now the mountain is still there, but he can't climb the high ridge anymore. He can only fondle the mountain that gave birth to him and raised him with his memory over and over again.
The old man took out the hookah from the tobacco bag, but only filled it with half a pot of cigarettes. Pinch, the purse is as empty as the wilderness after autumn. The old man stayed for a long time with a pipe in his mouth, but he still lit the fire and lit the half can of cigarettes.
The old man smokes a cigarette in small sips, and will smoke again after one sip. He stroked the empty pipe carefully, and his heart was empty. Not long ago, cigarette boxes were never empty.
Ever since the woman with long, thick black braids sewed and embroidered her and stuffed him with a pack of cigarettes, she has never been free, and there has always been a cigarette in it for him to smoke. But now, the man who embroidered the wallet with cigarettes has gone, far away. But he knew that he and she would meet again and reunite, just like that time when he beat her away from home. He knew it was impossible for her to come back to him this time, but he would definitely go to find her. He knew that she would wait for him somewhere ahead and fill his wallet with cigarettes and her love, just like that time she waited for him on the hillside full of moonlight.
The old man smoked a cigarette in small sips, smoking a cigarette, and a past came to mind. Those past events, some bitter, some spicy, just like this dry tobacco leaf, once made him grin and shed tears ... But now he recalls those past events, and like his dry tobacco, he is used to smoking. The spicy taste is very fragrant, and the bitter taste is very sweet. The more he tastes, the more he chews ... The old man stares at the sunset, with a faint smile on his face, slowly.
Looking at the old man in Xishan at sunset, his face is full of red affection and attachment.
When the old man faces the sunset, his wrinkles are full of attachment and affection. But the old man knew that the sunset would always set. Just as there is always an autumn mature every year, there is always a sun mature every day. Autumn is a mature harvest season and the sun is a mature sunset season. The old man thinks that the sunset is like mature autumn, the most touching moment and the most touching scenery. The sun has set, and a brand-new sun will be born tomorrow. The old man once dreamed of harvesting a sun in the far west, and now he dreams of sowing a brand-new sun in the far east. But at that time he was very young and could walk so far. Now he is very old and can't walk so far.
The sunset is red, leaving the old man bit by bit. The old man stared at the sunset and said goodbye to it with a faint smile.
In the distance, there is a childish voice calling grandpa. The old man saw himself running barefoot from the green grass in spring, and he saw himself running back from the cool river with melon leaves in summer. The old man saw himself running back from the autumn field with a small basket full of wheat ears. The old man saw himself and the little girl called smiles send us light chasing the handsome butterfly.
"Oh, look, the old man is sitting there again ..."
"He, what is he looking at?"
"He can't see anything-his eyes can't see anything ..."
"But he's obviously looking-looking-isn't he looking?"
The old man smiled and listened to the quiet whispers, as if he saw the incomprehension and curiosity of the young people.
The old man stood up slowly from the big bluestone that had begun to calm down and touched his crutch. The old man turned around slowly. He saw the old elm still standing quietly. Old elm, old elm, was already an old elm when he was very young. At that time, it seemed that its life was about to dry up, but now the old elm still has green leaves ... The old man firmly believes that the old elm will still shoot branches and spit leaves next year, giving the world a green shade.
The old man stretched out his cane and tapped the old elm tree. The old elm's answer is very old and solid.
The old man stretched out his crutch again and knocked on the big bluestone a few times. Da Qingshi's answer is crisp and calm.
The old man didn't ask whether the big bluestone came first or the old elm came first, but he knew that many years later, the big bluestone would still be here with the old elm. He knew that at that time, a very, very young child would ask a very, very old man whether the big bluestone came first or the old elm came first. ...