When writing an autumn article, what are the topics of classical poetry adaptation or Chinese style?

"Autumn Words" [Tang] Liu Yuxi.

Since ancient times, autumn has been sad and lonely, and I say that autumn is better than spring.

As soon as the cranes line the clouds in the clear sky, it will lead poetry to the blue sky.

Qiu Si [Tang] Zhang Ji.

Seeing the autumn breeze in Luoyang City, I want to write a book.

The fear was said in a hurry, and the pedestrians opened it again.

Mountain Dwelling Autumn Twilight" [Tang] Wang Wei.

After the new rain in the empty mountains, the weather is late in autumn. The bright moon shines among the pines, and the clear spring stone is upstream.

The bamboo noise returns to the Huannu, and the lotus moves the fishing boat. Feel free to rest in spring, and the kings and grandchildren can stay.

Autumn Nocturne" [Tang] Wang Wei.

Guilu was born in the autumn dew, and Qingluo was thin and did not change clothes.

Yinzheng has been diligent for a long time, and he can't bear to return to the empty room.

Midnight Autumn Song" [Tang] Li Bai.

Chang'an is a month, and thousands of households pound clothes.

The autumn wind blows endlessly, and it is always a jade relationship.

He Riping Hulu, the beloved man went on an expedition.

Autumn Dengxuancheng Xie Wei North Building" [Tang] Li Bai.

The river city is picturesque, and the mountains look at the clear sky. The rain catches the mirror, and the double bridge falls into the rainbow.

The people are cold orange grapefruit, and the autumn color is old sycamore. Who reads the north upstairs, and the wind is full of thanks.

Su Jiandejiang [Tang] Meng Haoran.

Move the boat to park the smoke, and the sunset is new. The wild sky is low and the trees are low, and Jiang Qingyue is close to people.

Autumn Denglan Mountain sent Zhang Wu [Tang] Meng Haoran.

In the white clouds of the North Mountain, the hermit is happy. Looking at each other and climbing high, the heart flies away with the geese.

Sorrow is due to the twilight, and the prosperity is the autumn hair. When I saw the people returning to the village, the sand crossed the head to rest.

The trees on the horizon are like camellias, and the riverside continent is like the moon. Why should he bring wine and get drunk on the Double Ninth Festival.

Autumn Evening [Tang] Du Mu.

The silver candle autumn light cold painting screen, light Luo small fan fluttering fireflies.

The night is as cool as water, and you can sit and watch the morning glory Vega.

Ascending" [Tang] Du Fu.

The wind is urgent, the sky is high, the ape is howling, and the white bird flies back.

Boundless falling trees and Xiao Xiao, endless Yangtze River rolling.

He is often a guest in the sad autumn, and he has been on stage alone for more than a hundred years.

Hardship, bitterness, hatred, frost and sideburns, pouring down a new turbid wine glass.

Summary. Autumn Death.

Summer worms don't make throats.

The autumn rain fell on my heart.

Alone on the west building eyebrows light lock.

The autumn breeze is bleak and sorrowful.

Autumn. You are the red leaves of your hometown, you are the ears of rice in abundance, you are the fruits of fragrance, and you are the osmanthus in front of the pavilion.

The golden season, the sky is high and the clouds are light, and the harvest time is full of joy.

Write a poem on the topic of autumn, and write a new poem on the topic of autumn, with a self-proposed title.

Autumn Death. Summer worms don't make throats.

The autumn rain fell on my heart.

Alone on the west building eyebrows light lock.

The autumn breeze is bleak and sorrowful.

Autumn. You are the red leaves of your hometown, you are the ears of rice in abundance, you are the fruits of fragrance, and you are the osmanthus in front of the pavilion.

The golden season, the sky is high and the clouds are light, and the harvest time is full of joy.

Anything else? Just ask the world, who dares to laugh at my arrogance? Not for the spring blooms, but for the autumn blossoms.

Untitled. It must be a poem written by yourself.

Be intentional and imagery.

There is no love, but the moon enters the house, and the dead leaves go with the wind, so it is autumn!

What about this. Write it yourself.

There is a moon with withered leaves.

Imago. The artistic conception is also okay.

Anything else? It's not easy to be original.

The poems are characterized by highly concise language, short length, and concise and strong.

A poem about autumn: "Autumn".

Blue sky.

Surrounded by white clouds.

The geese are autumn lovers.

Bringing the spring of graceful judgment Lu Yue.

Trembling the silence of the moon.

Only the sparrows are still dancing.

on the land where it is planted.

Revisit the lost past.

The murmur of the autumn wind.

Wake up the golden grains.

Yellow leaves are autumn flowers.

Blooming acacia in the sky.

Tears of dusk hang all over it.

Only the grass is still in the distance.

In quiet time.

Freeze the soft picture.

In the golden embrace.

Some familiar words.

There was also a sudden silence.

Who is opening the heart of autumn.

Who is listening to the dreams of autumn rushing to this.

Who is feeling the soul of autumn.

The autumn rain is bringing a message.

Don't be barren anymore with a heartfelt lovesickness.

The autumn night wind knows the autumn breeze when the leaves fall.

Dead branches are hard to keep.

Look up at the stars. The stars are exquisite.

The moon is like a golden hook. The geese cry with the sycamore.

Drunk eyes look at the green pine.

Flowers fall in front of the court.

Swinging paper lanterns.

Listen to the cool breeze blowing your ears.

I don't know if the autumn wind is in late autumn.

The world is parting and lovesick.

Why is it so sad to leave people since ancient times?

Drunk like a dream tonight.

The bright moon shines on the jade building.

When you raise a glass to invite the autumn breeze to relieve your worries.

"Autumn Leaves".

The autumn wind blows gently.

Blow away the leaves from the trees.

The leaves are yellow.

The leaves withered.

The leaves burned.

When burned, it turns into a pile of ashes.

This is the autumn leaves.

This "Autumn Leaves" is my original, I hope you like it.

Soak in a season of clear cream.

fluttering in the aria of the morning light.

Falling A wreckage full of amazement.

The season of withering.

Who pinned a blooming chrysanthemum to his head?

Walk through the intoxicating blue sky.

Pick up the mulberry leaf leaning against the corner.

Touched by the sour nature of the deep purple color.

As I was immersed in the previous season.

Long, long taste.

It's raining in September.

Time is running out. Memories don't stop.