Autumn never turns around, it has always been flat and straightforward. Yellow is yellow, red is red, and those who still want to be green are not reluctant, and continue to be green.
But when people say autumn, there must always be metaphors and hints.
Autumn has been said so much: harvested, sweet, bright, mournful, sorrowful, and vast. I don't know what I'm trying to say, but I've always been a nagging person and always have to join in the fun.
Because it's autumn, we always have to talk about autumn colors. is also because autumn enters people's hearts, and there will always be a little wave.
Autumn has a desolate charm and a strong momentum. The autumn sky is high, attracting who is looking for it little by little, and the autumn that is full of ups and downs is waiting for who to cut off inch by inch.
In fact, you and I don't have to think about anything, just be the one who is the one, just be the one who is looking for and harvesting themselves all over the world.
At the foot of the sky, a flock of geese began to flutter their wings. The eyes looking around also leaned on the clouds.
No one has ever tortured the birds to see if they have anything to do with the clouds, and no one has ever cared if they really existed at that moment, or if everything was just a hypothesis.
We are intelligent and intelligent people, we are intellectually sensitive people, and we are also sparkling and spitting people.
Words carefully say autumn, and talk about autumn around the corner: autumn with unknown whereabouts, autumn with hidden emotional shadows and life worries, and autumn with dreams flowing with water.
Autumn is coming, and autumn has a high-spirited side and a heavy and dull side.
None of us can be sure whether we will come or be taken away with sorrow or joy. Time bounces around, spring can't catch it, and autumn comes forcibly. It seems to be giving, but in fact it is taking away.
Speaking of autumn is like saying a poem or chanting a song, it is not profound, nor obscure. All that remains is poetry and songs, a sense of fatalism and symbolism.
Speaking of autumn is like thinking of the water of a river and shouting about the mountains in front of you, sometimes it is grass and sometimes it is pine. It can float and sink, it can be surging, and it can communicate. It is a small ripple flow, and it is a long echo and response.
People who are superstitious about spring will also be obsessed with autumn.
When the flowers speed up the time to fall asleep and the veins of the river become clear on the blades of grass, the autumn we are fighting against is actually ourselves.
Autumn is difficult to copy and name. Money? Magical? Drastic? Grudgeful? Enraged? As if it were all and as if it weren't.
It is better to hold you in your arms or lean on your chest, chatter or cry bitterly. said thousands of good words and sentences in autumn, but I can't stand side by side with you, through thick and thin.
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Source: Jungar Literature and Art
Author: Xian Ran
Editor: Li You
Proofreader: Liu Jinglu
Review: Wu Wenling
Final review: Wang Hongmei