I want English, and it's better to be concise.

Half a yellow leaf falls, and I hear the sound of life withering. Yes, the geese flew south again, leaving only dead branches on the branches, and the spring water gradually dried up, and the chill came quietly. All this tells me that winter is coming.

In my opinion, winter is the least romantic season, especially in the south. It can't see the snow and ice in the north. There is no Wan Li desert in the west, and there is no sound at all. Winter in the south is always just a depression. The weather is very cold, but there is not a trace of moisture. The cold immersed in the bone marrow seems to have taken away all the warmth of the body, leaving only a cold mass that is as loose as dry floc and stuffed between the chest and lungs. In this season, people's thinking will be frozen, and even emotions and romance will be forgotten in an instant. Under such circumstances, it is difficult to raise a trace of goodwill, even if there is an occasional wish, it will soon be thrown into the corner of memory.

Standing outdoors, take a breath gently. A mass of white fog is wrapped in warm air, stretching out in mid-air, dense, and melting into dry and cold air for a long time. The little hope that was just ignited was shattered, quietly and quietly disappeared, as if it had never happened, and it was already a special kind of wetness in the trance. Xiao Shu grew into a big tree and became an old tree in winter. The branches of the old tree are staggered, and only a few scattered leaves are dotted with traces of life. The bark is slightly brown, as if it had been baked on a fire for a long time, and it has lost its spirit and is half curled, as if it would fall to the ground at any time.

In summer, only withered roots and leaves are left in the lotus pond in the mosaic field. It has long lost the charm of beads. The cold wind shook gently, withered and withered leaves, as if quietly telling the beauty of the past, and as if quietly crying for the decline of the present. If there is another cold rain, more flowers will fall, which will help Li Yishan keep listening to the rain.

The mountains in the south are no longer as tall and majestic as those in the north, but they have lost their former runlang in winter, leaving a slightly gray figure standing quietly between heaven and earth. Silently guard a silence. If there is a heavy snow in the north and the mountains are covered with white, it will be a magnificent picture and there will be new hope among the mountains. It's a pity that there is no snow in the south, just like scattered hills on the vast Jianghan Plain. Only the green shadows of pine and cypress are left in the mountains, which are as green as frost, and there is gray in the light green. From a distance, it seems to be covered by flying dust.

Standing by the river, I found that there was only a narrow gray chain left in the moat in the past, and the river bank where the waves beat thousands of stones in the past is now at a standstill. The river seems to have frozen, and even the flow rate of the east injection seems to have stopped, and everything is silent.

Yes, the winter in the south can only be described as dead silence, without any movement of life. There is only one deposit slip between heaven and earth. This depressing atmosphere is full of everything, sucking away their vitality bit by bit.

Being here, I can only send my feelings to the window, send my heart to the distance, and hope to have a trace of new green and send the hope of spring.

Waibianyi

Lilac rain sorrow

In June in the south of the Yangtze River, it was drizzling. I don't know when it will rain in Mao Mao this afternoon. I like walking in this drizzle, which makes my skin feel the freshness and delicacy of soft rain. The freshness and lingering of drizzle make me feel natural, pure and transparent. I like to sit by the window and watch the wind and rain on such a drizzly day. It is like an elegant and elegant picture scroll. In the gloom, my thoughts are flying.

It is misty and rainy, filled with an emotional atmosphere. I like listening to lyrical music and appreciating beautiful words on rainy days. Music can bring me a kind of purity, and words are my other life. If you are in the freshness and meaning of prose, if you are in the classicality of poetry and songs, you are enjoying your own peace. Thoughts flow away like running water. "The bluebird doesn't know what's outside the cloud, and the lilacs are sad in the rain." There is always a sense of tranquility when reading such poems, and the faint sadness gently sweeps across the heart lake.

It's raining, and lilac lilacs seem to sway gently in the rain. The drizzle is like smoke and fog, sad and beautiful. Rain and fog condensed on lilacs, as clear as jade. Lilac rain can't be sealed, and water can't be sealed. Glittering tears slipped quietly, and my thoughts drifted away like lilac rain. A little disappointed, a quiet dream flooded into my heart with the continuous rain, with a series of ripples.

It's raining in Mao Mao, and beautiful lyric songs are dancing outside the window:

When love cannot sympathize, when love cannot cry.

It's really bitter to keep that little hatred in my heart.

No one can decide, no one will give up.

The arrogance and cruelty of love have nowhere to tell.

Who doesn't covet more care?

If you want to love, you can't suffer, so don't bully.

Don't be unwilling to accept the ending.

If you have, you should be satisfied and sincerely bless.

I'm just sad that I can't grow old with you.

Never have a chance to see your smile again.

Remember that your kindness will only make the pain worse.

Memories hover in my heart, how I want to escape.

I'm just sad that I can't grow old with you.

I can see your smile every day

Without a support, there is no one to hug.

Tears cannot be wiped away, you know.

I hope you know that I am a sincere blessing.

As long as you have a good time.

Huang Pinguan's Grow Old with You is our favorite song. Every time we listen to it, we feel deeply! Reminds me of you deeply. How I want to grow old with you. I can hold hands with you to watch the sunset. I want to grow old with you. I want to listen to the rain by the window. I want to grow old with you. I can lean on you. ...

In the misty rain, the beautiful past flies like lilac tidbits, and what comes as scheduled is your face and quiet whisper. The past is like a roll of old black and white film, slowly unfolding in front of me. It's still rainy season. You and I meet quietly from two ends of life at a certain midpoint, and then cross. Flowers bloom and fall, and the past is like smoke In my heart, it is still fragrant, and my mood is still fragrant because of you.

In the background of slow music, in the inexplicable disappointment, the mood also falls with the rain. ...

Two external articles

Falling flower life

Nikolai Nikolai Gogol said: "Youth is happiness after all, because it has a future.

( 1)

It is a realm where flowers bloom silently and fall without interest. Flowers bloom and fall, but it is a flash in the pan, a flash in the pan, and it is calm after all. When I go to Qiu Lai in spring, I'm afraid things have changed, and flowers are blooming and leaves are falling. But it's already quiet inside. After all, I like these flowers. Who knows, who ever competed for beauty?

The same is true of youth. Interpret life with blooming time. To enjoy an unforgettable honor. It's like a pious man standing in the holy land of Jerusalem, enjoying life and fighting for it. Give ear, and whose youth is humming?

(2)

Peerless elegance was broken in the youthful glory of the later dynasty. The resplendent hall is only drunk in the fragrance of charm. After a leisurely time, the flowers in the garden sing the world of mortals. With a bitter smile, it is the fall of Fu Cha, the prince of Wu. Bet on youth, shoulder heavy burdens and embark on an unknown journey. Tears that can't be turned away lasted for a whole spring and autumn. Lonely clouds sigh sadly. The downfall of a dynasty is only drunk in clouds.

Today, thousands of years later, people open their books, quietly walk through all the years, look at the stone that used to be like a flower, and interpret the firm belief that Wu will be destroyed more and more with the blooming years. It turns out that youth has already opened an endless chapter in the dark, which is intriguing. ...

(3)

Krakuyevac, a small town that grew up behind a grave. When the weathered history is picked up again, the roar of men and the cry of women have already resounded through the sky. The Nazis brutally slaughtered every corner of this town.

The setting sun is flustered and retreats in loneliness.

Green graves are all over this gentle town like flowers. Behind that, fresh and young life is persisting and blooming. In the face of ruthless guns, they are still full of confidence, still fearless, and still protest loudly: "No!" In tears and laughter, they shouted, "Give the children a last lesson!" "

Yes, they went after all. The bloody and brutal Nazis broke the tranquility of this small town, and then frantically and eagerly transformed it into another Auschwitz. People cried and mourned, but they never regretted it. Because their indomitable patriotic enthusiasm has long been in full swing in the young utopia. Please believe that justice is the most beautiful flower in the world.

(4)

Life is a delicate flower, and youth is a moment of blooming. Only at that moment will this flower be fragrant and beautiful. Just as someone once said, "Bitter youth is still youth, and a tearful smile is still a smile. As long as my heart is full of hope, I can see heaven even if it rains! "

Yes, everyone has a pair of flying wings …