Wen | Zhang Youguo
Yellowed leaf surface,
The vein is no longer clear,
Who knows,
How many ups and downs have you experienced.
Quietly floating down,
Quiet snuggle on the mother's knees.
defoliation
You're not far away.
You're not going far,
Even if it is blown up by the wind,
That's your recollection of spring, too.
In the cold wind,
Thou shalt stand tall,
With hope the earth was greened.
When a hundred flowers are in full bloom,
You never argue,
Decorate the scenery with its true colors as simple and beautiful.
That's where you're looking for Summer.
Under the scorching sun,
Temper the will with perseverance,
In the midst of a storm,
Cast without indomitable.
Do not be proud of the ruler,
Not a short sigh for inches.
Leaning over the grass without feeling humble,
Holding your head high in the clouds is not arrogant.
Sending elegance and tranquility to the hustle and bustle of the neon phantom,
Sow the seeds of hope on the barren ridges of desert gravel.
Look at the cirrus cloud Shu,
Reading the bucket to the stars,
With tenacity
Weave the code of life to the fullest.
That's what you're saying about the value of giving autumn.
The wind is blowing, the rain is long,
You're still putting the last bit of milk,
Dripping into the heart of the fruit,
but let the bones break,
Twisted and deflated once plump body.
thereupon
Red dates, orange oranges, yellow pears...
Refreshing;
Maple leaves, pine branches, poplar...
Colorful and colorful,
Just like in the ink paintings of the world
montage.
Autumn, too, has been endowed with seductive philosophies and truths.
Nor do you perceive your fear of winter.
In the midst of the severe cold,
Lost and displaced under the snow and ice,
At last
Or the Portuguese in the earth,
Turned into spring mud.
You can also hear your message to the south-flying geese:
The long road is long and together,
Lined up in the same boat,
Wind and rain will never give up,
To be able to sing all the way
Reach the ideal habitat.
Also hugging the cooking smoke behind the house,
Condensed into a thick nostalgia,
Gathered in the hearts of the wanderers,
Let them take care of their bags,
It was time to return home.
Next spring,
I'm waiting for you.
(Made on January 16, 2022)
(About author:Zhang Youguo, male, from Pingyuan County, Shandong Province, deputy director of the People's Congress of Pingyuan County, president of pingyuan county historical and cultural research association)
One point number Yuhe Weilan