深秋季节很羞涩地酿成了一首小诗殷红的枫叶落满韵脚石级小径上便涌起一阵情潮片片云朵被天吊得老高湿漉漉的田野被挤干了水分饱满的谷粒便回家归巢父亲把农事揣进怀里咂巴着丰收的味道一缕温暖的阳光拂去了他一年的疲劳那饱经沧桑的脸便生出了一些动人的语言风的耳朵似乎听到 Autumn season is very shy led to a small poem, bright red maple leaf full of footprints on the footpath on the rise of a wave of love piece of film clouds were hung in the old wet field is squeezed dry water full of grain will be back Home homing father put farming into his arms 咂 Ba catch the taste of a ray of warm sunshine flushed his year’s fatigue that years of vicissitudes of life gave birth to some moving language wind ears seem to hear