秋天的世界是怎样的?镜头会告诉你。几条晨光,像蚕丝捻的绳,自东方抛来,捆收纱帐般的雾,雾太活,收不拢:千棵松的短针勾了雾角,万只蝉的小嘴咬了雾幔,雄壮的山峦忽然翻个身,又压去了半匹。你看到阳光金黄的手印子留在山的脸上,半边醒半边睡。你虑阔心胸,向群峰走去,无人的清晨,天因你而开朗,翠峦为你妩媚,石径旁的垂草打扫露珠。仿佛昨夜这峰峦难得做了一梦,而且还 What is the fall of the world? The lens will tell you. A few dawn, like the twisting of silk rope, thrown from the East, tied the yarn-bound mist, fog too live, not close: a short needle hook pine tree fog angle, million cicadas mouth bites Fog mantle, majestic mountain suddenly turned over, and pressed to half a. You see the sunshine golden handprint left in the face of the mountain, half awake half sleep. You are broad-minded, walked to the peaks, no one’s early morning, days because of you and cheerful, Cui Luuan charming for you, stone path next to the dew to clean dew. As if this last night a rare mountainous dream, but also