Red maple. Author: Yupiao Qing Lotus Fragrance (Henan Yu Xiaohe).
Cicadas chirp and disappear into the autumn fields.
Grass and trees, mountains and rivers, slimmed down a plump waist.
The earth held out the corn, soybeans, and peanuts on the chest.
Affectionately feed hungry villages.
Red maple, the flame that burns life.
The magic weapon of faith in the frost and cold.
Those lonely sighs, painful wounds.
Redeemed by the dancing soul.
Fallen leaves tremble in the cold wind.
Green, bright, mercilessly stolen by time.
There is only a clear pulse, like a road walked.
Imprinted with the wind and rain of a lifetime.
The broken past is constantly rising and falling in dreams.
Dodging, evading, and ultimately useless.
They are entangled and chased like phantoms.
Destroy the temple of the heart.
And I, remove the stubborn stones and dirt in my body.
Hold the warmth in the palm of your hand tightly.
Walk through the vicissitudes of roads, riverbanks and bridges.
Walking in the thin and cool world
Listen to the cry of the soul.
Author: Yupiao Qing Lotus Fragrance (Henan Yu Xiaohe).
Walking on the autumn fields.
I picked up the golden leaves.
It's like picking up the lost dreams of my life.
Listen to the cry of the soul.
The merciless autumn wind wields swords and dances swords.
Flowers, trees, once again unrecognizable.
But there is a river of faith surging in the body.
Waiting for the next spring to call, to hug.
The sharp knife of the wild goose slashed hard through the chest of the sky.
Through the thick, stuffy fog of the earthly world.
Boulder-like, hard and heavy.
Inadvertently, it hurt my heart.
Sitting alone in the light and shadow of the night.
I can't salvage the fragments of time.
It is impossible to crack the fate of drifting like fallen leaves.
Only hold on to the fragrance of the world.
Tonight, I put down the shackles of sadness and melancholy.
With the attitude of a tree, welcome the wind and rain of life.
Even though it has lost its green and brightness.
It is also necessary to stretch and spread the tenacious roots.
Lonely. Author: Yupiao Qing Lotus Fragrance (Henan Yu Xiaohe).
When the gongs and drums of the autumn wind beat again.
The flowers are discolored, and the plants and trees are frightened.
Loneliness, like a pair of invisible hands.
Desperately tearing the splendid memories apart.
The mighty reeds spit out pale whispers.
Swaying and struggling under the ravages of the autumn wind.
Just like when I was frustrated, alone.
Clutching the painful wound, he looked sad.
The wind and snow of parting, repeatedly conquering the castle of the heart.
Your laughter has long since turned to poison.
Released and spread in the midnight moonlight.
Destroy the remnants of the dream until it collapses.
The past is like a rushing river.
If you don't give up, you can't go back to the starting point.
The palace of love has long been decayed and deserted.
In the frost and snow of the years, shivering.
Your oath was a sharp spike.
The magnificence of piercing lies.
The vastness of loneliness is like a flood, surging.
Drowning the fragrance of birds and flowers in my heart.
Author: Rain drifts clear lotus. Another pen name: Yu Xiaohe.