我沉醉于秋天里的春天

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编者按：春天是播种的节令，收获盼望的种子，付助实际举动，就会有丰富的果实，也就是春华秋实。丰产的喜悦 ，做作不会忘却当初寄托的愿望！ 　　天匆匆凉了,beats by dre，金色的秋天如同春天一样，也是万紫千红的,beats by dre，但比春天更有魅力。
　　
　　天是那样的蔚蓝,Casque dr dre，多少朵白云安闲的陪同蓝天畅游着，如同彼此扶持的夕阳伴侣彷徨在暮年的金光大道，脚步迟缓且持重，飘飘洒 洒，居然让人觉得焕发着青春的活气，是那样的流利，不涓滴的蹩脚之处。
　　
　　我突然有了一种激动，莫名的冲动，本来金秋是如斯的叫人欣悦，我好想投入到金秋的原野，让我把秋天的气 息沁入心脾，纵情呼吸着大天然带来的无以伦比的气味。这秋天的旷野不比春天的差，它固然不是鲜花点缀的，但 也有比鲜花装点更美、更养眼的景致。
　　
　　我沿撒满金色落叶的大道向远处走去，悄悄地，听着飘洒的零碎叶子的声音，还有秋风吹起落叶的声音，搀杂 着秋虫的鸣叫,beats by dr dre，就犹如秋的私语，是那样的惬意、美好，看着身边的树枝缀满秋的果实，橙色的柿子沉甸甸的垂着，是那样的丰 满，好像要把枝干压弯。石榴也笑开了花，低下了羞怯绯红的脸，脑袋使劲地往下垂着，就像待嫁的大姑娘。珍珠 般的葡萄，红的发紫，绿的晶莹剔透，就连那不不起眼的玉米，饱满的头顶也梳理起了她那板栗色的卷发。树叶更 是色彩斑斓，一排排的树上，不是春天般的一个个的清一色的绿，而是墨绿中夹杂着褐色的黄，金色的红，开花的 树,chaussur christian louboutin，结下了花的果、花的种子，更是颜色斑斓。
　　
　　我如痴如醉地尽享着这金秋的馈赠，秋虫的鸣叫伴着养眼的美景，我沉醉于秋天里的春天，谁说秋天是秋愁的 开端，我倒感到是对本人进行了一次灵魂的浸礼，心是那样的安静、那样的宽阔，那样的酣畅淋漓的抛洒在大自然 的眼前，自天然然、坦坦荡荡、忘我无畏的，于是我领有了一份喜悦,casque beats，一份播种。
　　
　　秋天，灿烂的秋天，犹如春天一样的残暴、光辉，但她比春天更加的深奥，遥远，更加的富有内涵跟魅力，她 既有春天的漂亮，也有秋天的魅力，这就是我的秋天里的春天。



伤痛的我

“一着失误


The driver clambered into his seat, clicked his tongue, and we went downhill. The brake squeaked horribly from time to time. At the foot he eased off the noisy mechanism and said, turning half round on his box--
"We shall see some more of them by-and-by."
"More idiots? How many of them are there, then?" I asked.
"There's four of them--children of a farmer near Ploumar here. . . . The parents are dead now," he added, after a while. "The grandmother lives on the farm. In the daytime they knock about on this road, and they come home at dusk along with the cattle. . . . It's a good farm."
We saw the other two: a boy and a girl, as the driver said. They were dressed exactly alike, in shapeless garments with petticoat-like skirts. The imperfect thing that lived within them moved those beings to howl at us from the top of the bank, where they sprawled amongst the tough stalks of furze. Their cropped black heads stuck out from the bright yellow wall of countless small blossoms. The faces were purple with the strain of yelling; the voices sounded blank and cracked like a mechanical imitation of old people's voices; and suddenly ceased when we turned into a lane.
I saw them many times in my wandering about the country. They lived on that road, drifting along its length here and there, according to the inexplicable impulses of their monstrous darkness. They were an offence to the sunshine, a reproach to empty heaven, a blight on the concentrated and purposeful vigour of the wild landscape. In time the story of their parents shaped itself before me out of the listless answers to my questions, out of the indifferent words heard in wayside inns or on the very road those idiots haunted. Some of it was told by an emaciated and sceptical old fellow with a tremendous whip, while we trudged together over the sands by the side of a two-wheeled cart loaded with dripping seaweed. Then at other times other people confirmed and completed the story: till it stood at last before me, a tale formidable and simple, as they always are, those disclosures of obscure trials endured by ignorant hearts.