Autumn, Maple Leaf

This autumn is coming. I remember that maple leaves should have turned yellow. A few leaves on the maple trees in front of the House are slightly green, and the two leaves alternate to produce a familiar face, who was that yesterday’s smile? Gradually wind, rain and cool. The wind comes, the rain falls, and it is cool. I don’t know whether you look reddish or pale and purple in the distance. Many women are in autumn this season, gradually losing their youth and beauty. I have no time to take into account the bleak and desolate autumn wind. I just want to bring you my affectionate greetings with the wind, although we never met, I believe I once invited you in the annual rings of the season under the autumn tree. Autumn is always drizzling, and the rain is full of coolness, which makes the past brilliant and prosperous die out in the fallen leaves, silent, and buried in the flowing water together with the autumn the memory of trees. Who said that falling red is not a ruthless thing, but turning into spring mud is more Hu Hua. However, some leaves have rotted on the branches, Dancing with the autumn wind, and still cannot escape the ending of disappearing. The time of the season is still in the spring, but you and my journey went to the maple forest in the late autumn early. The red of the ground is the vicissitudes of time, or the gaunt look of you and me, at the end of autumn, struggle and swing. The autumn wind swept away the fallen leaves and the leaves fell all over Chang’an. Wind is always everywhere, not limited by space, not restricted by time, crossing the cross-marks of time, drifting in every era, every corner, breaking through the lonely heart of many people, let those beautiful love become sad and blurred. The paper tent on the Teng bed fell asleep, countless, no Jia Si. The incense is intermittent and the Jade Stove is cold, and my feelings are like water. The flute sounds three times, Mei’s heart is broken, how much spring feeling. Hurt, sad, happy, hate, this wind can never take away any of you and me. Love is always inseparable from each other in front of the years. No one can escape from the flow of time even the ancients and the present. After a meeting, no one can escape from separation and sadness. Sometimes love is like a plain wall at home. After a long time, the dust has read her beauty, but you and I still like the brand-new face of that year, no matter how beautiful it is, it will be repainted after all. You are the maple leaf that I picked up when I passed by, mixed in the pages of the book and kept the plain color for a while, but I became the wall in your house, and you praised me for my beauty by yourself, I was painted with paint myself. Falling Flowers and flowing water, who is ruthless and hurt whose deep feeling? Maple leaves withered and fell all over the ground. Lover, it’s not fallen leaves, it’s my broken heart. It is clear in my heart that I am not suitable to write such sad words, and I never want to write sad words. I only hope that the world and you can be safe for a long time. Perhaps the youth was too ostentatious, breaking the string of the night and playing this sad song. Maybe it is because I am not self-sustaining enough, I can’t put the world in a calm state, and the sad melody will ring from time to time. Tonight, I want to be sad once, frowning for the floating world, for the noisy world, for you and those beautiful and desolate love stories, and for the women in that story, choked for their brave love, Liang Zhu’s butterfly, Meng Jiangnu cried the eternal masterpiece of the Great Wall, Li Qingzhao’s displacement every story has their melody, which sounded slowly in the night. Nowadays, I no longer care about who I will meet. I have long been used to walking in the world of strangers alone with a white coat and years of scriptures on my back. It has nothing to do with sadness, it has nothing to do with loneliness. If you are tired, you will rest on the shore. When you wake up, you will leave by boat at the ferry. However, sometimes I looked at the yellow Maple leaf in the book alone under the light, and my heart rippled with sparkling ripples, just like meeting you in Chiang-Nan misty rain miles, just like the smoky rain in Jiangnan, I can’t wait for the future, but I just care about the past as always. Misty rain in southern, Chiang-Nan misty rain, how can this illusory and blurred smoke defeat this piece of withered maple leaf? After all, I still have to endure the pain and leave together with the years to see the flowers bloom for four seasons, the change of the living years is only for the Lotus waiting for Buddha front.

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