Time flies, just like this, when we turn around, summer becomes a story, and when we look back again, autumn becomes a beautiful scenery.
In the middle of autumn, the most colorful change is leaves. The leaves, whether green, yellow, or red, intertwined and rendered each other, some golden, and some red ignited their sight, rendering the earth colorful. If the shade of green trees is the story of summer, it tells the unbearable heat of sweating, hot and frogs and cicadas; the colorful leaves are the language of autumn, depicting the picturesque scenes of maple red like clouds, leaves falling yellow like trees, and osmanthus fragrance.
Autumn is getting deeper and autumn thoughts are endless. That faint worry is a memory of the past years and a sigh of relief at the passage of time. It is the melancholy of "sleeping at the sound of autumn when I searched for it, and the leaves on the steps are full of sunlight. It is the melancholy of "the old friend has no news from thousands of miles away, so I wrote the deep longing of "the river head asked the Duan Hong" and "don't say that you are idle and there is nothing to do, and the lonely lamp writes clear sorrow every night" is the melancholy of "there is a longing for the years when you go out, and I am worried about seeing the leaves flying by the lake."
Autumn is the most arousing lovesickness. Ouyang Xiu wrote in " Yulou Spring. I don't know if you are far away after farewell ": "The wind and bamboos knock on the autumn rhyme in the middle of the night, and thousands of leaves are full of hatred. Therefore, I put on a single pillow in my dream, but the dream cannot be a lamp or an ashes." In the middle of the night, the wind blows the bamboo leaves and whistle, and every leaf tells the story of farewell and grief. I leaned against the lonely pillow and wanted to see you in my dream, but who knew that the dream had not been completed and the wick had burned out. Li Qingzhao wrote in "A Prune Plum": "The fragrance of red lotus leaves leaves the jade mat in autumn. I lightly untied my silk clothes and went to the orchid boat alone. Who sent a brocade letter from the clouds? When the geese return, the moon fills the west building. The flowers float by themselves, the water flows by themselves. A kind of lovesickness, two idle sorrows. This feeling has no way to be eliminated, but it has just fallen down, but it has come to my heart." In an autumn when lotus flowers wither and bamboo mats turn cool, the rows of geese are returning south, and the bright moonlight sprinkles the pavilion building to the west. Flowers drift freely, and water drifts freely. A kind of separation of lovesickness touched the idle worries between you and me. It had just disappeared from the slightly frown eyebrows and then vaguely wrapped around my heart.
person is middle-aged, just like this autumn that is getting deeper and deeper. Looking back at the journey of time, time passes, how many feelings and how many melancholy it is. However, although the autumn colors are getting late, it is now a good time for autumn harvest and winter storage. Once strength is accumulated, spring will begin to sprout and grow. The philosophy of life is also contained in the time sequence of nature. It is young and the future is long, and hope will grow with a smile not far away.
Today, I gently hide the proverbs of this time with a yellow leaf. When the late autumn monsoon blows, let it blow into the poem and distance you want.
(The above pictures are from the Internet, please delete if infringement)
#I am creating the second issue of Toutiao#
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