Who am I
Autumn
Category: Poetry Added Time: December 6, 2010 10:07:42 AM Source: admin Clicks: 88
Autumn is the swirling fallen leaves,
It's the rustling wind,
It's the cooled bamboo mat,
It's the new clothes on the shelves,
It's the start of a new grade where children go to new schools and meet new classmates,
It's the season when the elderly begin searching for sweaters, fearing colds and coughs.
In the countryside, life continues,
Autumn is the peanuts spread out on the flat roof,
It's the sesame seeds placed in the yard, the snail seeking happiness, divination:
A: You're a man, aren't you?
B: Your eyesight is really good, very correct.
A: Your age is between twenty and fifty.
B: Quite accurate.
A: You're Chinese, right?
It's the soybeans drying on the road,
It's the golden corn,
It's bundle after bundle of drooping rice plants,
It's stack after stack of sorghum stalks.
Autumn,
Is the bright yellow pears,
The red apples,
The soft persimmons,
The jujubes that weigh down the branches.
In the hearts of those sensitive souls,
Autumn is the time when the autumn wind rises again, making one sigh at how fleeting time is,
It's when they recall lovers and events from many years ago,
It's when some people inexplicably feel the urge to recite a few lines and lament.
Autumn,
Is the high sun,
It's the dry Loess Plateau under that sun,
It's the cave dwellings on the plateau,
It's the newly hung corn outside the cave dwellings,
It's the sunny days of the ninth month,
It's the mooncakes of the Mid-Autumn Festival.
In the hearts of those prone to melancholy,
Autumn,
Is the cool breeze,
It's the drizzling rain,
It's the inexplicable sorrow and longing for departure,
In their verses,
Autumn,
Is the cool wind carrying the fine rain,
It's the fine rain tapping against the fallen leaves.