Thank you. Xifeng wrote about the remnants of autumn. Leaves, geese, light smoke and light clouds are all imagined as spring and summer, which will make people feel the charm of autumn. Originally, autumn was also full of vitality, which could not help but make readers shine at the moment. And this kind of writing can also show the author's optimistic and open-minded mood.
The author is Liu.
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Thank you Zephyr.
It blew off the osmanthus in the back garden, the scattered leaves of tung trees and the yellow flowers together, which is the poet's adjective. Only the fragrance of flowers, the clarity of water, the solemnity and purity of the sky, and all the songs of autumn insects.
Once I wandered by the pool: I took Qingbo as a mirror and saw her smiling face, which was more beautiful than any flower. The fish in the pond passed by in twos and threes, whispering; White geese swimming in the water, clear shadows and floating waves, red palms facing the sky, and young fish are ashamed to hide; Kingfisher, like a green fairy, makes a sound, like morning makeup; Egrets sometimes fly to the shore and stand quietly, just like a fisherman in hemp fiber.
I once broke the bridge: at the end of the day, the pond reflected rosy clouds like fire. I stood at the end of the bridge and spent a few days in the dim dusk, waiting for the new moon to rise and wake up the crow's dream. When weeping willows are tired, sweet-scented osmanthus is sending incense in the next courtyard, Chengcheng Huang is covered with colorful flowers, green vines hold up a slim waist, and the stars in the sky are teetering.
I have climbed the stairs slowly: the mountains in the suburbs, the villages in the suburbs, the cattle and sheep everywhere, and the residual lotus in the shallow lake: not the residual lotus, as if it were fallen leaves; Unless the lotus is reopened? It is autumn there! Leaves are green, like grass fighting for beauty; Yan zhen is like the flight of Xia Yun; Misty, swaying with Yun Lan. Who is there? Looking at the endless horizon, there may be butterflies dancing in pairs and swallows cutting clothes.
In this lovely poetry and painting, a wonderful picture is paved. She and I became poets in paintings and painters in poems, with bright clouds and bright moon and mountains.