夕阳照耀,

                          晚风轻拂,

                          撩乱了你的秀发,

                          是它在林间追逐.



                          它不懂顽皮,

                          它不知理智,

                          它把爱洒过,

                          留下的却是点点滴滴.



                          它不是春,

                          却有春的气息;

                          它不是夏,

                          却有夏的足迹;

                          它不是秋,

                          却有秋的特色;

                          它不是冬,

                          却有冬的味道.



                          晚风拂过,

                          拉出了人间最动人的歌.