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临别的渡口,我把一朵黄菊做成书签,悄悄放进你远航的行囊。从此,你的名字犹如九月的阳光,照亮了我心底的忧伤。北疆的荒漠,料峭的朔风中,是否也有灿烂的菊?宁静的夜晚,一弯新月挂在林梢。我仿佛看到南宋那美丽的女词人,吟诵着“人比黄花瘦”的诗行,深情款款如约而至。亭上,那只盛满浊酒的杯子也瘦成了一枝轻盈,风吹来,碰翻了一地的呓语和光阴。心事静静地流淌。床头,那些折叠在书页里的羞涩眼神,一直没有长大,还在向着秋天张望……多
Farewell ferry, I put a yellow bookmark, quietly into your luggage voyage. Since then, your name is like the sunshine in September, illuminating the sadness of my heart. Northern Xinjiang desert, the steep new moon, whether there are brilliant daisy? Quiet night, a crescent moon hanging in the forest. I seem to see that the beautiful Southern Song Dynasty female poet, chant “people than yellow thin ” poetic line, affectionate section such as about to. Pavilion, the cup filled with Mochizuki also thin into a light, the wind, knocked over a shout and time. Mentally quietly flowing. Bedside, those shy eyes folded in the pages of the book, has not grown up, still looking toward the fall ... ... and more