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In the late autumn
In the late autumn, when you step on the incense, the chrysanthemums are open to the joy, positive, and enchanting. Looking for ����, unconsciously walked to the front of the Li Qingzhao Memorial Hall. Simple architecture, fresh and low-key. The six delicate and smooth calligraphy on the raft is just like the Qing dynasty. The chrysanthemums are spread on both sides of the front door, so it is the deep autumn that the road is not ecstasy, the curtain rolls the west wind, and the people are thinner than the yellow flowers. "The incomprehensible chrysanthemum, where I know Li Qingzhao's thoughts, and self-satisfaction. The Chung Yeung Festival, filled with thoughts, join hands to climb the distance, and now alone. The night is heavy, cool like water, lonely sleep Drink a cup of chrysanthemum wine and drink it. After painting the moonlight, draw a pen and write down the famous saying that "the person is thinner than the yellow flower". The acacia is thin and the face is bitter. Zhao Mingcheng sees "Drunken Flower Yin" How sad it is. Pain yourself can't accompany your wife to drink the wine. I like to embrace the talented person and the goddess of the goddess. "There is a pile of yellow flowers, and it is derogatory. Keeping the window, how can you get black alone? Indus is more drizzle, to the dusk, bit by bit. This time, how can I get a word? "The autumn wind is bleak, lazy dressing, leaning against the dry, watching the chrysanthemum in the courtyard, a petal withered. How can I pick up the leisure, let the chrysanthemum wither. Without the deep love, the chrysanthemum is beautiful, and can not be happy. Long long night The blue light, the rain outside the window, the ticking, the ticking, the chrysanthemum in the heart, the same color, the same huge. The difference is the state of mind. The two words describing chrysanthemums are already human beings. The yin and yang are separated. The person is thinner than the yellow flower. Although the thoughts are bitter, but the husband is in, happiness is there, there is hope, there is joy. The yellow flowers are piled up. The accumulation is the day after day of loneliness, ambiguity, pain. Because of love, It will be painful. Today, Huanghua is not yesterday. This situation is only to be remembered. Recalling, red sleeves add fragrant night reading; recall, poetry is made of pottery pottery; recall, invite the moon to drink chrysanthemum wine; recall, night lingering today, many People no longer believe in love. Lovers go, like the same calendar, turn over, a new day is about to begin. Pain is the melting ice of spring. The sky is warm, the ice is melting; even if the lover is there, how much love is deeply loved, there are How much love Far away. Today, communication technology is developed, love can not withstand the prosperity and temptation of the city. Keeping home, guarding the love of others. Is the love of the ancients tough? Or the love of modern people is fragile? The love of today is coming quickly. Fast. Like a meteor, crossing the happiness in the sky. Like lightning, the dazzling moment of the moment. Then it disappears flatly. Is it love that we don't understand when we are young, or when we choose, choose the wrong person? It is not easy to cherish the love of ancient times. Or today's love, can not find precious everywhere? Into the besieged city, you will also be acacia, two places leisurely? Will also "do not sorrow, curtains, west wind, people are thinner than yellow flowers?" will also be "cool� ,, Bai Juyi loves Xiangling love for seventy-five years, always think of tears and clothes. Sigh, Lu You and Tang Yan��s love, a good fight, two tears when they meet. In Shen Yuan On the wall, two people sang one and complained. In the grievances, Tang Yan��s red face followed Li Qingzhao��s footsteps and entered Yu Yutang. The white two-meter-high statue stands in front of the eyes. Quiet as a chrysanthemum, the right hand gently holds the book roll, and the left hand naturally falls. The woman who is thin and has a book. That looks, naturally serene. She is the chrysanthemum in the late autumn, quiet, high and clean. Standing in front of her, just like seeing her life's fortunes and misfortunes. You, that is, the squatting swing, get up �The whole fiber is delicate. The girl with thick and thin flowers, thin sweat and light clothes? Are you looking back at the door, but the generation of the singer of the green plum? In the summer of that year, you put down the pen in your hand and sit on th
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