The chrysanthemums are blooming silently on the other side, after all, the rain is about to come. The waning moon shines on my hometown thousands of miles away. The wind blows away when the wild geese return. Troubles arose and sorrow abounded. Can't bear to be laughed at by others. Love, hate, love and hatred are endless, and the weather is cool in autumn. -------I would like to write this article to commemorate the sonorous years and the fleeting years.