Midsummer leaves silently, the autumn wind arrives as promised, I don't know whose eyebrows make the mountains and rivers cold, I don't know whose distance points to the vast sea of stars!
Stepping into August, the evening wind appears a little later, and the corners of the courtyard are mossy overgrown.
The thick fog embraces the rain of sorrow, and the added coolness brings people to sink into a dream.
Autumn has arrived, summer is getting farther away, and the walls of time are all fragments of the years.
In this way, we are not in a hurry to enter the late summer and early autumn, the mountains and rivers are like green daisies, and the water and grass are lush and green.
The most splendid years will be handed over to the autumn moon to keep. In the journey of life, waiting for the wind, waiting for the rain, and waiting for you.
The worries under the oil-paper umbrella are a small order after you leave.
That poetic time, pouring out the pain of lovesickness encountered, the clear flute blows out a dream.
Midsummer is getting farther and farther away, and the autumn breeze is warmly invited.
Perhaps, the most charming chapter of this is that the wind brings a touch of refreshment, leaning on the moonlit night that has not ended.
There is an ancient temple hidden in the deep mountains, and the fragrance of tea is boiled when the rain comes. Who is it whose eyebrows and eyes make the mountains and rivers cool? Whose distance is towards the sea of stars? In the past, standing under the slanting sun, the white dew turned into frost.
I look forward to an autumn, the wind blows lightly, and the autumn chrysanthemums spread across the sky.
The moon is full of mountains and rivers, and the sound of the wind is heard, and the raindrops beat the sycamore and snub the courtyard.
A story, infatuation is hard to eliminate, a period of time, wandering in the autumn colors.
You are the fragrance between the lines, you are the affection between the eyebrows.
On the slightly cool forehead, write the lonely lovesickness.
The years are the meeting of the intersection, and the years are the flowers written in small words before the moon.
With a period of time, love encounter, with a person, happy.
What a wonderful time it must have been, with the years lingering and the vegetation luxuriant.
Midsummer is getting farther away, and the autumn breeze is invited. May you love this fireworks of the world.
In the time to come, there are stars and seas in my heart, and mountains and rivers and deep valleys are reflected in my eyes.
Even if the green silk adds gray hair, you must move forward bravely. The desire of the heart is poetry and distance.
Text/Jianke