Thousands of books and thousands of notes write about the winding of the world at hand, and past lives can’t write a graceful and restrained memorial volume in the wind.. Along the way, tang style Song Yu was intoxicated with the flowers and orchids at his fingertips, looking up at the starry sky, the zither whirling from the distant sky, the dazzling sound that curled up, as if the cool breeze in the bright moon caressed heptachord, the sound of the zither was flourishing, like the breath of grass and trees, like the aura of words, and the pictures immediately dotted the starry sky, the faint starlight of an inch, the fragmentary fragments of an inch, and a little shallow memory.. Stop in the wind, lean on the window and stare, memories like the meteor streaking across the night sky, blooming in an instant, brightening this sleepless night.. Entering the network is like entering this deep night sky. Once upon a time, it was already beautiful in the cycle of the season. However, the stranded heart still looks forward to the passing years. Memories are collected like ink in a paper roll, flowing in a happy melody and engraved in the care. Only memories are still keeping watch, quietly and quietly blooming a ripple of the fingers with the fine steps of the season. It is still every familiar morning breeze, still walking in the rolling sea tide, walking at its own pace and blooming the waves of its own life.. Although wandering in every harbor in different seasons of life, knowing that there are crossroads in life and how many storms and frustrations there are in Lu Yu, this must be an inevitable event, so let’s give ourselves a smile and hug, continue and continue the journey of life in the future.. The wind does not say, how many years have it blown away, remember the time when it was still and good, and holding a book can pass the time.. Sometimes you soak in a pot of clear tea, cross the long dream of red dust, carry a light to leave sorrow, fish for a bright color, and pick up the right childhood spots. You wade in from the moonlight lotus pond where the streams are deep and the flowers are falling, and meet Meimo in the silence of poetry and books.. Those romantic stories are quietly hidden under the unfinished promises, waiting for covering soil and corruption. And I, standing quietly in the wind listening to the sad melody, listening to the wailing sound of years passing by, waiting for my way home and my way home. But when I look back, I find that the rain shortage is coming. I want to go back to the beginning when people did not go and love did not leave, as if, years later, you and I were sitting peacefully in the field, watching the world of mortals conjure up under the tree, inviting dawn and dusk together, enjoying the sunset, cloud and moon together, and lingering with the wind.. The autumn scenery outside the window has gradually faded away. The autumn scenery has taken off the last prosperous coat of this autumn, and the fallen leaves silently depend on the roots in the autumn rain.. The autumn wind is cold. If there is no one meter of autumn sun, I can’t imagine whether the picture in late autumn will be so bright. Pick up a leaf and write a poem, piece by piece, one by piece, bound into a book. The cover need not be too extravagant. As long as a leaf and one meter of sunshine write down my name in the corner, that’s enough. This preface still has to be written by myself. First of all, I will tell those who have read this book – I’ve been here this autumn, I’ve been looking for you among the falling leaves and I miss you in the lingering autumn rain.. Often we have too much hope for each autumn and always think that I will have a lot of harvest in this autumn. In fact, in a plump autumn season, the mature will naturally mature, and the fruitless autumn will not necessarily be so down and out. All the things that have not been paid out can have the return you want. If you work hard, you will not regret it. What life needs is satisfaction, hope that you will trouble yourself, look at autumn colors lightly, look at life lightly, fade away flashy and clean yourself.. Autumn is just a symbol of nature. All the beauty and sadness are human echo. Too many stumbles are trapped by love words after all, affectionate rain, affectionate fallen leaves, affectionate dusk, and affectionate us. However, a autumn wind, like this world, this autumn, is so heartless.. Affectionate, heartless and understandable, we have to say ” treasure”. It was the late autumn when the maple leaf fell, again thinking of the love dock we met, Muran looked back again, still the smile of you and me, how many sunsets dusk, how many times the dream kept together, how many times the ice rain drenched the pillow on the bed, the moon shadow like lotus is our stupid waiting, looking up at the grey dream sky, the lonely heart wanted to go with the wild goose to pursue the past, let those floating memories warm the fallen late autumn again, let me hold your hand again, let us feel the tenderness once again, though it was destined to love after all.. The distance of one finger, how many bright nights and one paper, how many touching things have been written for you – for you I would like to write this deep love for you I would like to paint your beautiful and beautiful life for you You came from the smoke and rain You look like a flourishing woman You look like a young man You drunk the Qin Dynasty Moon How many nights you walked through the Tang poetry wind and rain How many dreams you missed How many love vows you touched with a gentle kiss How many times you read your tender feelings How many times you read your tender feelings How many times you broke your heart for true love I found in the poet’s pen Xu me a fallen leaf, let me love to cross a paper legend; Allow me to say hello, and the autumn wind is again the blessing of my voice.