当窗外的暮色悄悄蔓延,月光柔情地倾向窗帘,我轻推开门扉,去寻一缕夜的悠远。踱过院中的花圃,菊花正渐渐开败,几片金黄在萧索中分外耀眼。晚风微寒,谱出一曲凄凉,送给这即将远去的秋天。拾起一片落叶,抓住最后一抹季节的伤感,凝在笔尖。秋风阵阵。纷纷扬扬的树叶,在阵阵秋风的吹动下铺天盖地,纷纷落下。虽然已不再有昔日的翠绿和芬芳,我却如此真切地感觉着她们露水中的一如初生婴儿的嘴唇。 When the twilight quietly spread out the window, the moonlight tenderness tend to curtains, I gently push open the door, to find a ray of the distant night. Arranging in the garden nursery, chrysanthemums are gradually defeated, a few pieces of golden in the desolate exceptionally dazzling. The evening breezes are a bit cold, and a sad song is given to this autumn coming. Pick up a leaf, seize the last touch of sentimental season, condensate in the nib. Autumn wind bursts. Aroused many of the leaves, blowing in the autumn blowing under the sky, have fallen. Although no longer has the old green and fragrant, but I really feel the dew of the newborn baby’s lips.