The maple red to, autumn and deep, the warm fragrance of the years, in the time of the repeated rinsing, more and more soft. Flocculation leaf bias, that a leaf a leaf vein, with the calmness of life, the delicate autumn, dancing the cold gradually heavy, look back, have seen a hundred flowers actually colorful, a tree deep green, now, only this sparse yellow, covered by dust, which knocked down the words, is it time to sigh with emotion the passage of time, or to praise the love of the fallen leaves...
Maple leaf ruler, full of paper heart language; fallen leaves into the mud, dark fragrance overflowing. Looking into the distance, a piece of maple leaves, hidden in the late fall of the Arashiyama, for whom dyed red, and then quietly fell into the pages of my poem? I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get a good look at this, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to get a good look at this.
Evening Pavilion maple red, autumn is thick, according to the sunshine, far away from the corner of the season, the fallen leaves settled peace and quiet, in the afterglow of the setting sun, burning a thick and short-lived life, brighten up the sluggish winter. The layers of the verse, in the ink and water under the fine water, light fragrance, silence just like the first acquaintance.
Beauty, must be complementary, with sincere natural and frank existence, to today's serious bloom, facing tomorrow's withering echo, as well as the cycle of years and years, is still simple and pristine beauty.
In the splendor of autumn, sitting in the warmth of a maple red, walking on the path covered with maple leaves, gazing at a period of time, enjoying a warm and pure serenity, light friendship in the wind soft, in that piece of tenderness in the cycle, to find the best state of life.