Recalling return where

Late autumn night, a little chill. The town fell asleep quietly, yellow dogs in the distance were barking lightly, insects perched in the withered and yellow grass, and autumn cicadas after Frost were singing in harmony. I was sitting quietly in front of the security window made of cold stainless steel at the west corner of the small city. The perfume of Lishui River and the fragrance of osmanthus floated to the window faintly. The night screen card in front of the community is on, and the red and purple lights are flashing alternately, like the blink of the night, thoughts? a href=’ search.php ‘target =’_blank’> nostalgia Cuo spectrum cattle  frequency call) cut animal husbandry wo Huan playing  frequency angle Yi beaten gua ㄏ palate take pseudo-fold? br /> The red stones, the clear streams, the green locusts flying everywhere over the green rice, and the various beetles crawling around the paths in the late autumn, I am obsessed with a small village with a beautiful story, a small village with a beautiful name. You said, the hard-working guy had some unspeakable good things. I chuckled at the big pumpkin, the long cowpea and the white radish, and laughed at the beautiful memories in your faint narration, laugh at the cocked corners of your mouth. The old pumpkin vine swinging in the autumn wind and the long green cowpea swaying in the morning fog must be the leading role of your dream tonight. There is a scene that will freeze: In the radish field, the young man in white shirt is wiping sweat with the muddy hands that have just pulled out the radish seedlings, and the girl with twist braid comes over and smiles shyly, the little heart is green in the green seedlings,. You said you were the most popular guy at that time. All the young people in the joint school gathered together, listening to you playing three strings; The boys playing basketball were sweating, just putting down the ball, the smoke was burning, the cabbage was floating in the meat soup, and everyone rushed around; During the break, go up the mountain to pick tea bags, find rice carambola, go down the ditch to touch crabs and catch flat fish. It was also in the autumn night, the moonlight was like water, and there was yellow dizzy light. The boy’s heart became soft and chaotic, standing beside the playground full of weeds, I took out the harmonica and gently put it on my mouth, sighed and sighed, played and played. The beautiful night was so quiet that only my piano was left on the grassland, and I wanted to write a letter to the girl in the distance, unfortunately, there is no postman to send a message. It was a sweet and sad night, and she liked to imagine your panic under the kerosene lamp. If you are in a mess, she will complain sweetly that the yellow dog at home stopped barking yesterday. You said, at that time you were a young man with a literary dream. I laughed, it should be a silly guy. She sat in front of you and threw her braid at the front of your desk from time to time. Timidly, you touched the hair with a pencil. One mm, two mm, the hair was not touched, however, the heart touched the story of Liang Zhu, which was flowing in the pen. The young man thought about it foolishly. Following your beautiful memory, I also walked for a while. Half slope Camellia, Mantian rape flower, green wild mountain onion, clear stream attic, I sat in front of the window, outside the window was endless black and grapefruit fragrance, the sound of electronic piano was flowing inside the window. I prefer to choose clarinet, which is like a long water, which can make people’s thoughts flow far away. Only it can interpret the long length of “Night of grassland. It is a pity that there is no Ma Tou Qin in the options. The sound of Ma Tou Qin is long and vicissitudes, and the night may be thicker. Cool well water, clear stream water, glittering Dew, golden orange on the hillside, yellow green pomelo, the big Reed Rooster singing at dawn downstairs, besides, the poem on the door which the old owner of my house specially reserved for me, the new owner, is the most gentle one who bowed his head, like a lotus flower, which is extremely shy to the cool wind, saying a word to cherish shayanala! sha yang Nora! Follow the memory every step, the heart will be moist, because with you, the heart is not lonely. The past was quiet and the memory was quiet. It was a pity that it was too far away and a little desolate. The world was troubled and my heart was gradually covered with dust. The industrious guy had already made up half a hundred people, and the girl who played the piano near the window also made the sadness into two temples of slight frost on the sail of the years, who can dry into Tang Poetry and Song poetry? Lotus maybe can. Everyone’s palm was holding a lotus seed five hundred years ago, which slipped into the pond in autumn without any intention. The window is green and the flowers are blooming. Lian said: I am the lotus seed you lost five hundred years ago/break your heart once a year/how many people have guessed/Lotus’s heart/slowly dry into Tang Poetry and Song poetry, but neither you nor I can. The pen when I was young was still there, and the ink was just dry. There are many camphora trees along the road, and the dew at night is occasionally knocked over by flying insects. The pots and pans are symphonic, and the scenes to be performed every day are somewhat plain and indifferent. There is no scenery in familiar places, no stories in familiar people, and no suspense in familiar stories. Memory, the beautiful memory under the camphora tree, the memory waking up at the edge of the lotus pond, is the thread that is always pulling in the heart of the people who are drifting away, it is a scenery that confused people can never walk out. With memory, the scolding sound becomes fresh and tender. The soft loofah Vine in the bottom of my heart stretches out slowly. The fate will not disappoint every kind person. When I am alone, I will recall the night when I listen to songs together, the song is charming and a little cold. Words have naughty warmth. In your peaceful eyes, your heart gradually becomes quiet. I want to find a rainy day and go to the Red River Valley alone. In the bright and clean streams and among the red stones, I will sing a pure song and chase after the jumping fish, we also need to lift the water on the black hair of the young man who was eavesdropping beside the slippery stone. However, it was the season when the lotus seed had not slipped. 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