From the pond to scoop up a handful of fresh water, from the orchard to piggyback a mellow fragrance, Autumn came, singing a golden song, came to the city, came to the village without the spring breeze of the willow's complacency, without the sadness of the falling red drifting away, without the frenzy of the fiery blazing sun, without the cold frost and flying snow of the cold, you sang about the hardship and bitterness of the long journey, but there was no No disappointment and sadness, you sing the joy and satisfaction of the autumn harvest<.
Where to find the yellow crane? Only the long sky is left behind, the white clouds fly by. The good night of the past has become a festival,