At night, who put on the illusory clothes for you? When the prosperity fades away, the autumn night seems a bit lonely. I don’t know who stole the ink in my heart and the curtain that concealed my thoughts. The wind is gentle, the leaves are dancing, and inadvertently, autumn gradually thickens my heart, and I have become content with the light green curtain in front of me.
I like to sit in front of the window like this, accompanied by the fragrance of tea. Although the leaves on the tree are sparse, they are still green in color. Every time I look at them, I always think it's still spring. Suddenly a breeze blows by, picking up a few leaves and flying in the air. Following the direction of the fallen leaves, my eyes fall on the yellow leaves on the ground, and I am confused. He said to himself: Autumn is here, it is really here...
Autumn rhyme, autumn wind, autumn rain, autumn Xiao, autumn colors... the beauty composed of sections. What I love most is the romantic water spirit of autumn rain. Perhaps such a beautiful and romantic season is destined to be associated with rain, that kind of water, that kind of coolness, that kind of intoxication... The cool rain always gently stirs the strings of autumn. I can't bear to be disturbed, and let some autumn feelings fall, Spreading lightly...
The drizzle is falling, and the flowers are dancing in the south of the Yangtze River. The autumn wind has rolled up the thin and long hair, lifting up my slightest sorrow. Who has ever noticed... who has ever noticed that support? Holding a small umbrella, strolling by the West Lake , a thin woman who looks like lilacs , wind flowers dancing lightly, faint fragrance, moonlight like water, slightly rippling...
Likes to stand quietly by the West Lake, Quietly guard the bright moon in my heart. In the distance, a wisp of green smoke stirred up the melancholy again. I thought: If you make my peaceful heart ripple, then I am willing to draw that heavy stroke for you on the Sansheng Stone. It's better to be lonely with two people than to be alone.
The crossing of the heart extends with warmth, a deep and shallow mark on the heart... In the quiet night, I can only hold a few pages of plain paper, with a little drifting fragrance, light, light... I dance ink on the other end of the paper Poems are flying in this autumn night, and it is you who has put on that illusory neon dress for me...
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