正值霜降,地气渐寒,我到陵川王莽岭。这是闰九月初九,今年的第二个重阳节,深秋的西风横无际涯,穿过黎明与暗夜交峙的清晨,我看到月光被路边的树枝剪成丝丝缕缕,许多记忆如远方的星火一样明灭不定。这是沧海桑田的大雾,像世界在混沌中重生,我对王莽岭的憧憬从乳白开始,一星一点,更为巨大的深黑如水墨隐现。它是山水画轴,黑白分明地晕染着岁月,勾勒出庞然的时间轮廓。 Positive frost, gentian, I went to Mangchuan Wang Mang Leng. This is the third day of September this year, the second Chung Yeung Festival this year, the late autumn westerly crossless career, through the morning and dark night confrontation of the early morning, I saw the moonlight cut by the curb branches, many memories The same is true of the distant sparks. This is a thick fog in the sea and the sea. As the world reborn in the chaos, my dream of Wang Mangling starts from milky white, a little bigger and deeper. It is the axis of landscape painting, blooming in black and white years clearly, outlines the monolithic time profile.