Encounter with poetry-秋之声 DJ王琰

Sing to me, Autumn, with the rustle of your leaves. Breathe on me your spicy scents that flow within your breeze. Dance with me, Autumn, your waltz that bends the boughs of trees. Now tell me all the secrets you've whispered to the seas. Sleep with me, Autumn, beneath your starlit skies. Let your yellow harvest moon shimmer in our eyes. Kiss me, Autumn, with your enchanting spellbound ways That changes all you touch into crimson golden days. Love me, Autumn, and behold this love so true That I'll be waiting faithfully each year to be with you. Fall is not easy ——by Marty Kelley Winter is easy My branches are bare. Then snow starts to melt And spring's in the air. Springtime is easy. Green leaves start to grow. Then spring rains are followed By the summer sun's glow. Summer is easy. Just bask in the sun. Then breezes blow cooler And summer is done. Fall is not easy. It's time fora change. Green leaves turn colors, But mine all look strange. That isn't right. And that's just all wrong. My colors won't go where I think they belong. My leaves should be fire, all brilliant and bright. And ' try' and ' try' but tney won't come out right. And just when my patience begins to wear thin, My leaves all fall off and winter blows in. Winter is easy. || Waiting I wrote words On the edge of your dreamland Waiting for you to wake up Sitting under the shade We talk all day long I wrote words deep in your heart Hoping you won’t get any hurt Praying to the God Can you hear my voice? Now I’m waiting for you in Autumn Holding a piece of leaf in hand Watching the scenery of harvest When will you join me? How long will the full moon appear? Wine cup in hand, I ask the sky. I do not know what time of the year It would be tonight in the palace on high. Riding the wind, there I would fly, Yet I'm afraid the crystalline palace would be Too high and cold for me. I rise and dance, with my shadow I play. On high as on earth, would it be as gay? The moon goes round the mansions red Through gauze-draped window soft to shed Her light upon the sleepless bed. Why then when people part, is the oft full and bright? Men have sorrow and joy; they part or meet again; The moon is bright or dim and she may wax or wane. There has been nothing perfect since the olden days. So let us wish that man Will live long as he can! Though miles apart, we'll share the beauty she displays. Autumn, wherever it is, always has something to recommend itself. In North China, however, it is particularly limpid, serene and melancholy。 To enjoy its atmosphere to the full in the onetime capital, I have, therefore, made light of travelling a long distance from Hangzhou to Qingdao, and thence to Peiping. There is of course autumn in the South too, but over there plants wither slowly, the air is moist, the sky pallid, and it is more often rainy than windy. While muddling along all by myself among the urban dwellers of Suzhou, Shanghai, Xianmen, Hong Kong or Guangzhou, I feel nothing but a little chill in the air, without ever relishing to my heart’s content the flavour, colour, mood and style of the season. Unlike famous flowers which are most attractive when half opening, good wine which is most tempting when one is half drunk, autumn, however, is best appreciated in its entirety. It is more than a decade since I last saw autumn in North. When I am in the South, the arrival of each autumn will put me in mind of Peiping’s Tao Ran Ting with its reed catkins, Diao Yu Tai with its shady willow trees, Western Hills with their chirping insects, Yu Quan Shan Mountain on a moonlight evening and Tan Zhe Si with its reverberating bell. Suppose you put up in a humble rented house inside the bustling imperial city, you can, on getting up at dawn, sit in your courtyard sipping a cup of strong tea, leisurely watch the high azure skies and listen to pigeons circling overhead. Saunter eastward under locust trees to closely observe streaks of sunlight filtering through their foliage, or quietly watch the trumpet-shaped blue flowers of morning glories climbing half way up a dilapidated wall, and an intense feeling of autumn will of itself well up inside you. As to morning glories, I like their blue or white flowers best, dark purple ones second best, and pink ones third best. It will be most desirable to have them set off by some tall thin grass planted underneath here and there.