Qiu Zhi's lyric prose

Qiu Zhi's lyric prose (1) has passed beginning of autumn, but the autumn tiger is still rampant, and the heat is almost terrible!

Everything in nature is deeply influenced by climate. Whenever a season changes from old to new, we all know its change in an instant, hear its footsteps early and smell its aura.

These days, the sun with a high fever has been going on. Autumn is coming, just like an injection to reduce the fever. Incandescent's face turned red at once, and the high fever gradually subsided.

The wind is ruthless, dry wind, hot wind and wet wind. It seems to flow in the big boiler of rock, and it keeps steaming and rolling, getting hotter and hotter, showing its ferocious face from morning till night. When people get up early in the morning, their clothes cling to their skin. Autumn has come and the wind has softened. People can feel its coolness in the morning and at night.

Excessive rain, mania, ferocity, haste and recklessness. In an instant, the Yangtze River, the Yellow River, ditches, cities, villages and rural areas were all submerged in the Wang Yang. Autumn has come, the rain is no longer so aggressive, but obediently turned into a gentle drizzle.

Even if the grass has just emerged from the soil, it is full of eager desire and beautiful vision for nature. It wants to grow, blossom, bear fruit, pour out fragrance and return to nature. However, when autumn comes, all good wishes are dashed, because when autumn comes, every grass and tree bears seeds, and it can only pin its dreams on the coming year.

A piece of delicate and charming green leaves, dressed the trees as green, gently shook their hands in the wind and rustled from time to time. Before and after meals, people hide in the shade to have a rest and enjoy the cool. Autumn comes, the leaves turn yellow gradually, as if they have no feet, floating in the wind, and finally the flowers fall helplessly and fall to the ground

At midnight, people usually don't go out, because it is too hot outside and they are afraid of heatstroke, so they have to stay indoors, or read books, or watch TV, or tease children, or do other things. Autumn is coming, especially when the sun sets. At this time, people suffering from the heat will leave their homes in droves and go to the shore of Beihu Lake with beautiful scenery and weeping willows. You see, some parents are taking their children, some grandparents are pulling their grandchildren, and some grandparents are holding their grandchildren, strolling in the beautiful autumn colors and enjoying the comfort and happiness brought by autumn.

Autumn has finally come. Go slowly. I love you. Let me go with you.

Zhiqiu 2 Ye Zhichun's lyric prose, the autumn wind is bleak and cool. Time has entered October, and the topic of fallen leaves is endless. Too many people sigh, how can a word "worry" be won. Every time a friend sends a warm concern reminder through WeChat, SMS or phone: "It's cold, pay attention to adding clothes." Yes, nature is the most law-abiding, and may not know how to pity human joys and sorrows. Just because you are intoxicated with the spring breeze, it will stay in spring forever. If you love autumn, it will never come back in winter.

This weekend after the Double Ninth Festival, I didn't stay in bed again. After breakfast, I strolled leisurely on the plateau, from Yuan Ye, Liu Wu Village in the southern suburbs of Lhasa, to Duilong Deqing Grassland, to Norbulingka Garden, and finally to the urban area. Silently chanting all the way, "I went to Chongyang and came to Chongyang again, and the scenery is better every year." Hehe, infinite comfort and endless natural life are a magic of change and an eternal truth. At the foot of Potala Palace, it's eight or nine o'clock and the sun is still young. Autumn in the plateau comes earlier than in the mainland. Although the chill bursts, the holy and beautiful square is crowded with people, and the procession of pilgrimage to Lhasa is still endless. The roundabout around Potala Palace is bustling and crowded. Autumn nights in October are like spring tides.

A fallen leaf floated down slowly, hit me gently on the head, and then landed slowly on the gray marble floor under my feet. Looking at it, I suddenly remembered that my mother often hit me on the head with chopsticks when I was a child, and often repeated a sentence: "You should be sensible when you grow up." If you don't fight, you won't be awake. " I can't help laughing. My mother used to hit me for the understanding of my governor. Why did this fallen leaf hit me? In any case, it gives me a noble and gentle aesthetic feeling, which is enough. Thanks for hitting me on the head. Now I know my destiny. It's time to be sensible. With gratitude, I bent down to pick it up and gently held it in my hand.

This fallen leaf seems to be no different from the leaves I have seen on the mainland, and it is in the shape of a thin feather. It is not as red and purple as fruit, but it is dyed golden yellow by the season, and it is mottled with yellow and green. The main stem in the middle and the tiny veins extending to both sides are orange, which is very different from yellow. This reminds me of another fallen leaf that fell when I was flipping through a book the other day. It was a fallen leaf picked up from the hillside of Yajiang Gorge in Linzhi, southeast Tibet two years ago. It was bright red at that time, but now it has dried up. I remember that day on the misty hillside by the river, waiting for the emergence of the sacred and mysterious main peak of Nange Baba. It is said that Tibetan compatriots call it "a sharp axe that goes straight into the sky", and its summit goes deep into the sea of clouds. Rare and unlucky worshippers usually return in vain. I chose a small platform on a hillside, waiting for luck.

Gradually, the snow on the top of the mountain was stunningly reflected by the morning glow, and I was shocked. Unfortunately, the clouds are too thick and low. No matter how wide my eyes are, the arrogant and mysterious axe seems to only look at me, and then hide in the thick fog and never come out again. When I forgot myself, a leaf floated down, landed on my head, and then slipped down my face to my feet. I looked back at the fallen leaves. I don't know which tree species it belongs to. I saw it in a bright red trilobal shape with regular small serrations around it, which resembled the red leaves of Xiangshan Mountain in Beijing.

Squatting down to watch quietly, this fallen leaf seems a little tired, revealing a little euphemistic sadness, but still colorful, showing unique charm in a colorful world. It was still intact when it fell from the book a few days ago, but its color turned brown-red. I held it in my hand for a long time, and then carefully put it back in the book.

At present, this fallen leaf comes from a tree in Zongjiao Lu Kang Park behind Potala Palace. I couldn't help looking up. I have been fascinated for a long time and don't want to leave. On the branch of this wintering tree, there is a "name tag" which reads: "Left-handed willow, tree age 6 10 year". I am surprised that there are countless Qinghai-Tibet lines coming and going. On the road nearly 20xx kilometers from Kunlun Mountain Pass to Yangbajing, I can only see three trees in Dangxiong Wetland. How can such a big plant grow in such a thin air? In Tibet, which is recognized as the "world of ice and snow", what a cruel test it will undergo! The heavy snow fell on the head, the branches drooped slightly, and it undoubtedly survived; When the cold wind blows, I am mottled and proud. Oh, it suddenly dawned on me that this corner of Lu Kang was originally the backyard of Songtsan Gampo Palace. Is there no king's spirit in the land of kings? I don't know. Anyway, these stout trees are suitable for growing here and are extremely lush.

In fact, it is well known that among the tree families, except pine, cypress and bamboo, willow leaves fall at the latest, and the "left-handed willow" here is no exception, even if it grows on the plateau. It is still like a soldier, standing in the last shift to be a "early arrival and late departure" professional, and everyone will withdraw and then withdraw. At present, this 6 10-year-old left-handed willow stretches its desolate body, like a goshawk spreading its wings, and its stout waist is twisted to the left. Although there are not many yellow leaves on the scattered crown, it still shows the vitality of solitude. From this, I think that the withering of this leaf in my hand should be due to the cold objective weather that came too early. Before the arrival of spring, the wind was chilly, and it was still cold at first. It is the first time to see the green on the branches, and to take the lead in conveying the news of spring and creating the spring in the plateau.

In the face of nature, people are often used to associating fallen leaves with "withering", so it is not surprising that they feel bleak. But in autumn, I feel sad again, lamenting that life is impermanent and the world is short, so I ignore the new life and infinite spring scenery soon after the leaves fall, and my optimism and confidence in life are gone. These left-handed willows are marked with annual rings one by one, which is simply endless testimony!

A tree is a tree and cannot be simply equated with a person. But from the perspective of life, I respect the character of the tree.

With this fallen leaf, I walked back to my dormitory in Liu Wu Town, as relaxed as a swallow. On the newly built asphalt road, there are golden or orange leaves floating down from a height, which are tender leaves of poplar leaves. I keep moving my feet to avoid and jump, for fear of stepping on them, because they are seriously deducing an inherent and reasonable life procedure: jade appearance, golden curtain call, coming and going smartly, living proudly and calmly, worthy of the life value of eight or nine months.

Don't step on them, not because of charity or pity, nor just to leave them with a complete body and a clean face, but to admire them. This admiration will not be destroyed by falling to the ground, but a spirit that will be more vigorous in the coming year. Appreciating them can leave us with profound philosophical thinking.

Back to my desk, I put this fallen leaf I picked up in another book. It's the Heaven not far away that I just published. It accompanied me with the original leaf and book, and kept whispering "Hope, Hope ……" in my ear.

Autumn comes to us quietly. When the early autumn comes, it is not so sensitive to the feeling of autumn, but with the arrival of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the true colors of autumn become more and more obvious. Transition to late autumn, intoxicating fruits and scenery will definitely make people linger.

early autumn

In autumn, she dyed the leaves of trees and the stems and branches of grass into mature colors; It is dotted with wide streets, beautiful parks, vast Yuan Ye, towering peaks and beauty cosmetics everywhere, which makes people feel that autumn is coming while enjoying the beautiful scenery. Autumn reveals her charming figure and attractive scenery, which makes adults intoxicated by her charm and makes children dance for the rich fruits she brings.

The organs of the body clearly feel the arrival of autumn, which is really called: summer has just left, and autumn is coming. The weather is getting colder, and the fallen leaves miss summer. When flying in the gorgeous sky, the cycle of seasons becomes autumn.

Mid-Autumn Festival

The most telling thing about Mid-Autumn Festival is the round moon. It seems that she will radiate all her light in the Mid-Autumn Festival and strive to shine in the vast and deep sky. At this time, the moon is so slow and smooth. In the shadow, many swaying leaves are flying in the soft night. She is like a shy girl, hiding in the dark blue sky. The sky is like a blue transparent gauze, surrounded by smoke, and like a mist covering the whole sky, giving people a feeling of light wind and light clouds.

This autumn is really outrageous. Yesterday was midsummer, but today suddenly the autumn wind is rustling and the rain is rustling. Autumn wind blows leaves mercilessly, and leaves fly and fall in the autumn wind. The first thing that may fall is just one or two pieces, just like one or two butterflies that have lost their souls. But a few days later, it rained a swift golden rain, which dyed the earth golden yellow and rendered a sad autumn atmosphere! On the golden carpet paved with fallen leaves under the tree, bare and sparse trunks and branches stand upright, pointing to the blue sky and white clouds.

Autumn leaves are a symbol of autumn, and pieces of leaves fall to the ground. It seems that autumn is sad, but this is not the main theme of autumn. Autumn brings benefits, harvest, joy and hope to people; Autumn brings people maturity, joy and encouragement. This is the eternal theme of autumn. The melody of autumn is changeable, but the memory is still beautiful, which reminds people of tomorrow after this autumn.

Farewell to the hot summer, autumn is coming with her fruitful steps, melting the joy of people's inner harvest.

late autumn

In this season, people appreciate the fresh and beautiful autumn paintings, and the autumn rhyme presented brings infinite beauty to people. The most beautiful fallen leaves are maple leaves. Look at the red maple leaves all over the mountain, revealing the warmth of autumn. Although the maple leaves will wither, life will never stop. I feel life from the withering of maple leaves and find the lines of life from the veins of maple leaves. I would like to be a maple leaf, with this bright autumn color, to swim in the beautiful world in the distance, to kiss Yuan Ye and mountains, and to kiss grasslands and forests. I watched the whispering of maple leaves, which dyed the forest in autumn, and one leaf after another turned Shan Ye red, showing a scene of unfinished spring.

Autumn is crisp and the orchard is full of fruits. Look, the red apple on the branch is smiling at us. Pomegranate also quietly opened a smiling face on the treetops; Sweet persimmons sway in the wind on the fruit trees; A bunch of grapes, red with purple, crystal clear, like a string of purple pearls; Oranges in Huang Chengcheng proudly stand on high branches, shaking their heads; Hawthorn trees are covered with purple fruits, hiding behind dense leaves, appearing and disappearing, like shy little girls. In autumn, the wheat field is full of harvest, and the grain is abundant. In the field, strings of ears of grain dance with the autumn wind. From a distance, the wheat waves rolled like a golden ocean.

Autumn is a season of harvest and joy. Harvest and joy tell us that the responsibility of autumn has been completed.

The charming autumn scenery is fascinating. Blue sky, white clouds, autumn wind and red leaves set each other off; Distant mountains near water, beautiful grass and beautiful stones, natural combination. Autumn scenery, autumn paintings and piles of fruits are everywhere, which fully render the thick autumn meaning, which is refreshing and beautiful!

A person's life, like a light cloud, a wisp of breeze, inadvertently accompany you through the four seasons of life. Perception of autumn and the four seasons requires spring breeze, summer drizzle and autumn harvest. This is the most brilliant harvest season in life.

The coolness and desolation of the morning breeze are accompanied by the smell of autumn. What is missing is that there is not a butterfly and a bunch of shade in sight. Although these lost scenes will inevitably cause the soul to sigh, things have changed, and they may not be tired. For example, these large and small withered shrubs and the sunshine under the cool breeze and light clouds only give people an ensemble of feelings.

There are weeping willows, white birch, pine trees and some unknown thick trees on both sides of the path, which stand on the gate with dry crowns and attract countless pedestrians. If you look at it from a distance, it's a beautiful sight. As soon as autumn comes, the leaves begin to fall, some have already exposed the trunk, some have been standing proudly in the street, and some are still hanging on the branches, loving each other, just like sex.

The angry wind in August began to sweep the world, and everything was wet in the wind. Bare trees, sparse branches, cold insects, a bleak scene of autumn really dispersed, and the bleak colors brewed a rich and cold picture in the north.

I am an extremely sensitive person, and I often lose a little calmness at the same time. Every time it coincides with the season, I always use quiet inside's mood to get close to nature, looking for a bleak feeling, and my thoughts will wander from time to time. Now, it is another season of autumn wind sweeping away leaves. The autumn wind sweeps away the yellow leaves, but the wind can't stop sighing, but it dyes the homesickness.

The mountains, water, wind and clouds in my hometown are all unforgettable concerns. For example, in Lin Qiu now, the leaves are falling, and it is not the leaves that are scattered all over the floor, but the yellowed memories in my heart.

At this moment, I can't help thinking of the old pagoda tree. Although I have only seen it in a foreign country, every time I stand under this old pagoda tree, I am really confused by its straightness and strange bending. Autumn, especially its uneven surface looks like a shallow and deep gully, but it is a strange scenery.

In spring, flowers are bright, and in summer, leaves are fresh. In late autumn, it has been yellowed and decorated with years of wind and frost, uneven trunks and floating sparse leaves, all of which have become rich homesickness and surrounded me.

For example, the old pagoda tree in front of us can stand here today because it can protect its roots well. Whenever autumn comes, it is not like holly, and it doesn't want to leave a leaf on the day of death. Old locust trees can always scatter most of their leaves on the ground, then fall and bloom. In this way, after the wind and frost, it doesn't mind keeping the remaining body. Fallen leaves seem to deeply understand that it is more important to bury themselves in the soil than to be born in the branches. Turn them into spring soil to support its source of regeneration.

I was attracted by its tenacious willpower and the courage to sacrifice its own quality. Every time I walk in this place where cold insects don't bother to stay, it happens that it meets this old locust tree. No matter day or night, I am always at ease, and I can vaguely find a lonely beauty that makes people think deeply. Under the huge tree-lined, you can also see the stone tools that used to be leisure. In the eyes of pedestrians, it is just a passer-by. However, for those who feel sad about autumn, it is undoubtedly the best snuggling.

I always feel like I'm on a lonely country road. At this time, my ears are full of the sound of insects, stirring people's hearts. The long-lost voice came from a distance, suddenly far away and suddenly near, which is undoubtedly a lasting and strange smell.

Looking at the semi-deciduous fir trees, delicate pine and cypress trees, bare birch trees, and several rows of autumn willows that have not completely fallen, I want to go to a winding and secluded place, where I can't find dense clouds or dense rain, looking for the afterglow of the sunset, looking for the sunset glow in Lin Qiu and looking for the bleak sunshine. Melancholy but not negative, self but not isolated.

Autumn lyric prose 5 maple leaves, fallen trees, a wisp of autumn leaves swaying in the cold autumn, bleak autumn dew. Maple leaves fall from the roots, wet the world of mortals, and gently cry and moan. The stream is warm and there is a maple leaf floating.

The autumn wind has dyed the emerald green in summer yellow, and it is getting colder and colder. I am writing about the past wind and rain, hoping that the glass will no longer bloom and listen to the moonlight in the lotus pond. Another season of deep water and red leaves. Turn around a thousand times, and the tenderness remains the same.

Sitting still, listening to rather critical words.

Warm a pot of moonlight with autumn; Play a lotus rhyme with green strings. Autumn wind is rippling and red leaves are rippling. Autumn leaves in Qiu Lai spread out the four seasons of reincarnation in the cracks of wind and rain, enjoying the stars under the moon.

Maybe it's autumn love, maybe it's winter love, maybe it's Chun Qing, maybe it's Xia Lang. Passion is stained with the traces of years, and a wave of happiness is relaxed. Holding a cup of red dust, bending over a desk in the autumn rhyme, splashing ink on the feelings of mountains and the attachment of water, and creating a picture of knowing autumn.

This sentimental autumn.

The bending of time, the charm of waste. Among the flowers, the peach garden is in full bloom, the smiling wind flowers make the autumn cold warm the mist, and the hazy night is intertwined with the moonlight. Meet colorful clouds, hold hands with autumn leaves, read an autumn book together, and enjoy January red.

Autumn notes a curtain of sorrow, whispering in front of the lamp. Red drunk cherries and green plantains embrace each other, and the moonlight is concerned. Holding a bunch of flowers in hand, tracing the fragrance on the long scroll of years, smelling the breeze slightly.

A piece of red leaves, drunk all summer; Three thousand infatuation, a lifetime of sweet love. Plant a hundred flowers in your palm, just for one person to enjoy; Plant a forest in your heart, just for one person to enjoy the cool; Opening a field on the world of mortals is the end of time, and it is only for one person to shelter from the wind and rain.

If possible, I want to write under the blue light, you are between the lines, I am between the lines, through the notes of moonlight, have a cup of acacia?

If possible, I would like to recite poems at my desk, sing five words shallowly, read deeply, and read a paragraph about the infatuation of my opponent Fei, who blooms in front of the window?

If possible, I would like to hold hands with flowers, plant beautiful and warm eyebrows, remember the red leaves and swear to the ends of the earth?

By the window, moisten some magnolia flowers. Finish with a cup of tea. Sit still, listening to the rather picky. ...

Autumn lyric prose 6 autumn wind sends cool, every autumn, a burst of autumn wind blows slowly, and some seeps into my heart and spleen. In autumn, I feel lonely and lonely. The golden world gives people a different feeling, but it also gives me unusual thinking. It is better to be drunk in autumn than to see all the glitz in the world.

Looking at the depression of autumn leaves, how much hardship there is in the wasted years, listening to the rustling of autumn wind, and how much pressure there is in distant memories. Autumn leaves are always so lonely and lost in the noise. People always praise the flowers and green leaves in spring, full of the breath of spring. How many people have noticed the silent falling of autumn leaves? When they are used to seeing beautiful things, who will remember those sadness and bitterness?

When autumn leaves its beloved arms, is it to bid farewell to the departure of spring or the arrival of autumn? Just like people turn around, is it to wash away the pain of the past or to start a new sport? The yellow leaves that washed the earth were just a sudden and resolute fall, and the memories scattered by the breeze drifted away. ...

The arrival of autumn is always so unexpected that people only know when they look up and see the falling yellow envelope-autumn is always coming. Autumn leaves reveal the arrival of autumn, which is replaced by interest-free separation. Although I don't know how autumn leaves feel, I must be grateful that autumn appears in its life. No matter what you leave behind is nostalgia, sadness or indifference, there will be a corner in the dusty years, so a figure belongs to the memory of autumn.

Although I still have to leave, I can't replace it. The rings of life grow like this, and dusty memories will eventually be opened and turned over. Time has passed. When a scene and a memory go back to the past, autumn will eventually find that it knows autumn leaves best, but the fall of autumn leaves has long been regarded as a foregone conclusion. Spring, summer, autumn and winter are green, red, yellow and white. Every year in late autumn, ancient trees will witness the departure of fallen leaves. It must be so helpless and painful, but it can't stop the fallen leaves from falling without hesitation, so I am willing to die in autumn. ...

The long river of years is constantly changing. The past gradually becomes a memory and turns yellow in the washing of memory. Like curly yellow leaves, people's memories drift away. Things that seem more and more distant are more and more memorable and memorable. When you look back, is it an old tree or the autumn that has already passed away?

Close your eyes, the breath of autumn is around you. Is it admiration or regret to look at the falling leaves flying all over the sky? Stepping forward, the yellow leaves under the street lamp sway with the wind. ...

Qiu Zhi's lyric prose is full of afterglow, and the clouds are light and the wind is light. Falling leaves know the meaning of autumn, and lonely geese sing.

A yellow flower, a glass of clear old wine, looks so thin and lonely in front of the grave.

The weeds in front of Yingying's grave are so desolate and sad.

It's always different to send you a thousand miles away. At the crossroads, under the old locust tree, a flower umbrella hides the cool rain, and her eyes are crystal clear, pouring out the bitterness of parting. "You travel far, the road is unknown, the night is long, waiting for you under the lamp, remembering acacia." Not many words, every sentence deeply touches a distant heart.

Look back with tears and leave in a hurry.

The voice began again: "Take care of yourself outside and continue your business when you come back."

Sadness and tears, suffocation and tears wet my skirt.

You are all red, flowers are like colorful bees, dancing in the depths of pear blossoms, white inside and pink, petals falling, falling on your shoulders, falling on your eyebrows, spinning in the ocean of flowers, dancing a wonderful movement. Looking at a fire-like shadow, I was intoxicated in the pink world. Meet in the depths of pear blossoms in April.

Blue fruits are full of attractive light, pressing branches heavily, creaking in the wind, and trees are green in the morning sun, showing the power of life. You are wearing a pink skirt, shuttling through the depths of the pear garden, sometimes turning around, sometimes spreading your arms, and sometimes hiding behind a tree, playing like a flying butterfly in the green sky. My confused eyes turn with your figure. Meet in the blue dream of the pear garden.

The wind is strong, the autumn is thick and the fruit is yellow. In the mature season, you wear autumn clothes, a bamboo basket swings between your shoulders and your hands are like dragonflies. There is only fruit in the basket. Looking at your skillful movements and dazzling posture, your pink face is covered with sweat, and your smiling eyes reveal charming light. Love is the moment when the fruit is fragrant.

Know each other, know each other, fall in love. Covered with snowflakes all over the sky, I ate the fruits picked by you by the fire, and my heart was full of warm love. Outside the courtyard, plum blossoms are in full bloom.

It's another harvest season. When the fruits are heavy, you have to send me on a long journey. The rain is cool and interesting, so I have no choice but to leave. What you said when you broke up has been ringing in your ears and always in your heart.

Anxious to return. Put down your tired horses and chariots and set foot on your homeland, but you stay away from me. What greeted me was a grave, a cold place.

The wind picked up dust.

However, the memory is full of pain and helplessness. Looking at the pear garden in the distance, there is nothing in the depression, and the leaves are floating in the wind. I won't dance with you in the garden, nor will I look up at you with me. And I can only regard everything in the past as a dream, recall it carefully in the dream and slowly taste this happy and sad fate.

Qiu Zhi's lyrical prose, full of fallen leaves and dazzling all over the sky, quietly passed away like a fleeting time, and accidentally found that it left no trace. Sighs pay homage to the past years, and the empty breath wanders around the world, unable to find its tentacles or its breath, sinking like history but unable to find the mark of existence.

When the leaves in your hand turn yellow, without a trace of moisture and as light as feathers, a breeze will take them away. Covering my disappointment, I brushed it gently, feeling a little greasy and breathing a lot smoother. I thought about collecting it as a bookmark and putting it in the book. After a long time, there may be a faint smell of fallen leaves, which will bring people a happy mood.

When I was a child, I liked to collect plants as specimens. After a few days, I opened them and liked the green taste. The polluted place has become full of vitality. Chrysanthemum tea tastes bitter and sweet.

A long time of fallen leaves can arouse my long-lost touch, which is more addictive than childhood youth. He is like a lonely poet, depicting his mood with graceful pen and ink, driving his deep memory. Another example is the beauty's fragrance vanishing, with a beautiful chill, which is even more shocking and pitiful.

Just ten years later, what kind of mood do you have? Wandering like fallen leaves with flowing water, feeling heartless, what kind of ending will there be?

A wisp of cool Qiu Zhi lyric prose floated in from the window, which seemed a little noisy and suddenly realized; Autumn came, but it was the sound of autumn outside the window, so I went out to the suburban road alone. The idle clouds in the sky at dusk and autumn are so faint. They are floating quietly in the sky, and a gust of wind blows. The yellow leaves on the treetops slowly fall to the ground with the graceful steps of the wind and their companions, and pick up a fallen leaf. The texture of life is transmitted along the fingertips, and the clear texture tells the vicissitudes of the years. Looking at the fallen leaves and feeling the bleak wind, there is a kind of bitterness falling from the sky that overflows in my heart. The heart is just a place for passers-by. Some people come, some people will leave. When they stop and go, their hearts will be loaded and they will no longer be afraid of this heavy burden. They once walked into some people's hearts and saw that kind of intense load and noisy voice, with affectionate complaints, crying, loud complaints, silence and even a contemptuous smile. It turns out that a person's heart is also lively and kind.

In the middle of the night, it kept raining, and the old tree that wanted to be covered with wrinkles and cracks shivered with cold outside. Those once delicate and charming cannas must have been hung down by the rain. Even if water drops roll on barely standing petals, the wind will fall into the soil and disappear silently. If the wind blows gently, even the petals will be unable to struggle and fall off the mother branches in the cold night. Looking at myself in front of the mirror, looking at my eyebrows with smooth lines and even density, looking at my lips slightly upturned with lipstick, looking at my facial features that are not amazing but carefully decorated, and shaking my chestnut curly hair dyed with high-temperature chemical dyes, I am sad, reluctant and helpless. Although there is a load in my heart, I am not afraid of overload, but it is an indisputable fact that my face is old and my age does not match.

It's still raining after midnight in autumn, and there is only a blue sky outside the window except for a night outing, which seems a little cold. I took out a slightly thicker dress to keep out the cold, but I thought I would still wear Hanbok with nine-point low-rise jeans during the day, and avant-garde thick-soled casual shoes would try to coordinate the dress with cartoon patterns. Modern appearance can't hide my lonely heart at the moment. Ouyang Xiu's Ode to Autumn is full of sadness and sorrow.

Hurt. Wang Shifu's "The West Chamber" was changed to "blue sky and yellow land, tight west wind, flying north and south". Who is drunk in Xiao Lai's frost forest? Always leave people's tears ",also let me lost and lost. ...