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.