Roused Autumn
One:
The wind-dried autumn dipped in poetic ink, Accompanying notes under the drink. Once your songs sung indeed, Will then the seasons still flee? As you see, Spring would be for the suave romance to sleek.
Two:
Time, Always partial and in favoritism, Nourish the abundance of fruit at will. Thus let the leaves depressed and withered. The petal of poetic heart had fallen and littered, Long before the season began and twittered.
Three:
In addition to white, what else can be filled?
Snow is the only color remembered, in the advent of winter.
Four:
Softly holding is the Autumn, its drawing hand,
Freely touch the maple red in lonesome land.
Nevertheless, unable to depict the disquiet secluded,
Within my eyes and tip of my brow included.
Five:
Old wounds had ached into a red candle as host,
After lit, the most,
At most I thought,
Tearing up to an autumn would be the cost.
《也是秋惹的》
之一：
风干的秋蘸着诗墨，
就着音符下酒。
你的歌，唱起之后，
四季还会远走？
你知道的，
春最适合风流。
之二：
光阴，总是厚此薄彼，
滋养着果的丰盈，
却任由叶 凋敝。
曾经的瓣瓣诗心，
季节之前，早已落了一地。
之三：
除了白，还能留些什么呢？
冬来的时候，
雪是唯一被记得的颜色。
之四：
软软握住的是秋，
它执画笔的手。
挥洒着枫红，落寞。
却描不出那黯淡隐抑
于我眉梢眼角的愁。
之五：
已疼成一支红烛的旧伤口
点燃后，最多，
最多，我想也只就
垂泪一秋。
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