向日葵在秋日的田野,我曾以向日葵的姿势,倾听一种熟悉的行吟.平平仄仄,浅浅深深。岁月漫过我记忆的河流,如诗如歌,唤我走进江南水乡的小桥流水人家。而你,总是以歌者的忧郁,被唐诗宋词淹没得泪流满面。情真意切,亦真亦幻。那大漠里的孤烟,那长河里的落日,就这样被锁住了一份地老天荒的寂寞。多年以后我才明白,有一种情怀,就像这秋日里 Sunflower In the autumn field, I used to sunflower posture, listen to a familiar line Yin. Years passed by my memory of the river, poetic, call me into the water of the Yangtze River bridges people. And you, always the melancholy singer, was flooded in the Tang poetry lyrics burst into tears. Really sincere, true and false. The solitary smoke in the desert, the sunset in the long river, was thus locked in a land of loneliness. Years later I learned that there is a feeling, like this autumn