是秋，残月如弓。“起来独自绕阶行，人悄悄，窗外月枕明”轻吟如此。清辉撩起我悠悠的思绪。蓦然回首，缓缓举杯，邀向你啊，远方的诗人！长亭外，古道边———你那玉碗中琥珀光晕的残月划过时空与我的相碰，碎作点点银光质如金玉，索破苍穹。久违了，诗人！别矣千年，你依然 It is autumn and the moon is like a bow. “Look up and walk around alone, people quietly, moonlight pillows outside the window,” contemptuously. Qing Hui picked up my long thoughts. When you look back, slowly raise your glasses and invite you to the poet! Outside the long pavilion, the side of the ancient road—the moon of the amber halo in your jade bowl crossed the time and space with me, and pieces of silver light like gold and jade, broken through the sky. Long gone, poet! Don’t take a thousand years, you still