Late autumn

Late Autumn, a flash of rain sprinkles on the pavilion. The Sill chrysanthemum is sparse, the well Wu is messy, causing residual smoke. Sad, Wangjiang pass, flying clouds dim sunset. Song Yu felt sad at that time, facing the water and climbing the mountain. The pedestrians were sad and tired to listen to the long water flowing. The cicada is singing the fallen leaves, and the grass is declining, and the corresponding noise is loud. The lonely Pavilion has been living like a year, and the wind is gradually exposed, quietly to the end. The sky is clear, the river is clear and shallow, and the moon is bright. Thinking about it, the night is always against the scenery, and I can’t help thinking about the past. Unnamed and undeserved, the red building of Qimo is often postponed by age. The emperor had a good scenery, and when it was late in the year, he had a happy dinner at dusk. Besides, there are some crazy friends and strange couples, and when they meet, they are competing for wine. Do not have xun jing flies, former haunts dream, smoke shui cheng what limit? Read the fame, haggard and long stumble, follow the past, empty sad face. The arrow leaked and moved, feeling a little cold, sobbing gradually and making a few sounds of the corner. At the side of the idle window, stop the light to Dawn and hold the shadow without sleep. I read the words of Qi’s written by Liu Yong, such as slight rain, sparse chrysanthemum, zero Wu, residual smoke, feeling the rain of mood, sleepless night, sentimental morning, how sentimental and how many ileum, depicting the sadness and sorrow of traveling in late autumn, the desolate and desolate environment of the Inn Pavilion, the gloomy and cold atmosphere of the sleepless shadow, which dyed the old travel dream through the Sound of Arrows, light coldness and corners, the whole word is full of narration, with meticulous structure and smooth expression. With the help of scenery, the sadness of today’s dusk, the bitterness of the long night and the joy of the past evening banquet and the joy of the dynasty are reflected, highlight the sense of desolation of upheaval in the past and present. Today, I stroked the strings with sentimental fingers, and played the long melody towards the distant place where sunrise was about to spray, moistening the sentimental morning dew and supporting the solemnity of the years in the passing of time. The rainy morning in late autumn permeated my eyes. The morning breeze flickered the smiling flowers of the branches in the flower season and fell the empty sigh. The rain is as light as a smoke dream, as heavy as colored glaze, and the heavy thoughts are still indulged in a moment. The floating morning fog condenses into a gesture, picking up the flying maple leaves, as if touching a kind of telling of life, there is a kind of quietly drifting melody scattered. With the memory full of years of wishes, let the vines climb to the pavilion of the Moon Palace, sleeping in the sky, I am willing to sleep in the hazy flower path which turns into the sky. I am willing to lie drunk and turn into the desolate grass, and appreciate the rich lingering in autumn. I am willing to let life walk into the mysterious depth of the spiritual mansion and taste the floating joy, feeling the multiple emotions in the autumn makes people have a kind of heart of being old, aspiring, martyrs in their twilight years and full of ambition. Late Autumn, drizzle, a kind of exquisite, a kind of sadness, the first rain gurgling dancing rich love pain, fragrance, fragrance out of the charm of autumn, rain light, kiss the soft soil bit by bit, if the soft fingers stroked the earth gently, telling the tender love words. The light rain gently washed the dust which was so worried about everything. The coolness of autumn morning swept across my cheeks, which made me feel the chilly chill and the wet and fresh fog, let me enjoy the scenery in the rain along the friendly and soft path, the passing vehicles, the noisy and low noise, which continuously spread to my eardrum. I looked at the soft blue sky from a distance, and the sky was filled with thoughtful worries. Pools of water along the road, pieces of residual leaves falling into the autumn wind, seemed lonely and helpless in the bleak autumn wind, sometimes flying and spinning, sometimes I ran all the way. Autumn Rain is the masterpiece of the perfect creator of nature. It is colorful, just like a cloud in the sky in the morning, drifting and wandering around, telling me the helplessness of drifters in a posture, gently speak out your loneliness. The clouds slowly drifted away, divided into pieces of scales, and became symphonic poems of multi-dimensional space-time, drifting and flowing in the air flow. The scattered clouds looked at each other in a distance, missing each other and admiring each other. All things in the nature exist in a way of their own choice, dressing up colorful scenery with their own Ordinary. No matter whether you practice meditation or enlightenment, everything in the world is so orderly. No matter the blooming flowers of spring or the flourishing leaves of summer, they are enjoying their own pleasure respectively. Some people are still struggling, some are still decadent, but nature gives us the beauty of free enjoyment, you can imagine, With the breeze sailing to the other side of your desired ideal, to find the source of happiness in your consciousness, you may experience thousands of times of cloudy and sunny, or you may encounter countless times of wind, thunder, rain and snow. In the network of time and space, I was still safe. At that time, there was an unspeakable sense of seclusion far away from the world. My mind was calm and had a perfect balance. Every throb would have deep nostalgia, sending feelings to everything is still hidden in the heart, and the heart is still shining with colorful brilliance. I look at the nature and scenery devoutly and feel the pleasure of life. Even if I stare at a leaf on the branch in my spare time, it will make my heart feel peaceful. The green of leaves changes quietly in the season, gradually turning from flourishing to blending into the soil, waiting for the next rebirth. Even the leaves are like this, life also has the reincarnation of life and death. Open the roof of the soul, listen to the smell of clouds and rain, and see the calm stream flowing under the moon. No matter in the indulged dusk or the sober dawn, I want to open my heart to sing to the world, let my heart walk with the rhythm of time, and open my eyes to see the tragic comedy of my life. Today is the love song of youth, the Ming Dynasty is the mellow wine of thinking, there are happy laughter, there are also melancholy crying, time is wandering in my own shadow, the soil is burning uneasy atrium. If you smile at life, life will nod to you. If you sigh at life, life will give you depression. As long as you still exist, you must be calm. Take off the painful coat, leave a happy heart and hold up the sunshade of spirit. Life is not more important than appearance. I blend the tranquil emotion into the cadence of poetry and prose. I pour my wish of this life into my pen, let the seeds germinate and sprout, and let the branches and leaves grow on the branches, swing the swing of thought out of the cuff of consciousness, place the unreasonable emotion in the post station of life, forget the memories of the past, and keep the shadow that never separates, put yourself into the soil in front of you to filter and moisten, make your mood cool, wrap your faith around hope, give life a little music, and wish life add a lot of beauty, let life continue happily 2015-9-28 praise (prose editor: drops of ink become wounds) the snow in spring

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