The hand of time shakes the solid autumn.
The moon, bypassing the golden color all over the ground, rises brilliantly in the long night, carrying the Milky Way, majestic and pointing in the direction of going home. People sang carols of reunion, sat on the floor in the moonlight and threw stars into their eyes. From then on, embellishment, a little dream.
Autumn is a gift from nature to mankind.
Autumn equinox, cut out a new round of meniscus; Swallows in the south began to say goodbye in a low voice; Flourishing yellow leaves, began to sway; Clear persimmons outline a fiery hometown. If it is autumn, it is a gift from nature to mankind. There must be someone who grows golden wings before dawn, gurgles up his ideals and blows to the snow-white distance with the wind. Whether you drink Ye Ping's horses or mountains, the rest of your life will be sugar.
Sow a rain in the dream and watch the fairy tale come true.
Sunset writes letters to dawn, and stars read poems on the mountains. The moon lit up the flower path in the forest. Dew, kiss the morning. Fallen leaves in the forest, swaggering unscrupulously. Autumn wind sends you to sleep. And I, in my dream, shed a rain and watched the fairy tale come true.
Fly in the wind and see beautiful China.
In a flash, summer is here, and we will have many summers. This is true from the blue air to the green lake bottom, and from the ebb and flow to the forest Man Cang. In a hurry in summer, everyone holds their own moon and waits quietly for sunny days. Anyway, there's plenty of time.