Autumn
The falling of a leaf suggests the coming of autumn. One morning, after I had walked out of our lodgings, I found all the trees that had been green the day before had become bare. The wind which had been so gentle just the day before hit me hard in the face. I felt a little cold, and put my hands in my pockets, and pressed my arms to my sides. The fallen leaves danced about me. Maybe they were then very happy, for finally they could play on the ground, wandering here and there, swirling around people. Without the green leaves, however, the trees and in fact everything from the sky to the faces of passers-by, became gray. It is so fitting that Americans use the word fall instead of autumn. Summer was like a party that I had just walked out of. At that party, we sang, we danced, we ate all kinds of delicious food; we smiled, we laughed, we talked with each other and we forgot all the rest of the world. The air was hot, everyone s face was red, we were enjoying our youth. But suddenly, the music stopped, the colorful lights all disappeared. Everyone walked away in silence. Summer had hosted this party for more than three months before he was driven away by Autumn in the course of a single night. Autumn flew here and there, jumped up and down, shouting with anger. The air was warm and comfortable one moment, and then suddenly turned stone cold. The party was over, leaves fell and flowers withered away. Autumn--he came, he conquered.
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