If I were to take up my pen and write about autumn,

Surely it is a ground covered in golden yellow and tenderness.
Fallen leaves are messengers,
The autumn wind is the postman,
With every stroke,
What is drawn is the tranquility of the years.
The harvest is the sweetness of life. The spring breeze is proud and the horse's hooves are swift; in a day, one can see all the flowers of Chang'an. When my flowers bloom, all flowers bloom, and the fragrant array reaches through Chang'an. #美联储降息预期升温