The golden leaves are really poetic and lovely, both the fallen on the roadsides and those remaining on the poplars. When I passed, I would gaze at them with great pleasure. It’s the most fascinating scene in autumn I believe. Similarly the newly sprouted leaves in spring are also one of the favorite attractions for their fresh and pleasing color. Soon they are out of favor with passers-by when they grow up with their color turning deep. Just like the rising sun and the setting one praised and appreciated by poets and ordinary people, so are the leaves and other valuable things, first prized shortly, then ignored for quite long, finally parted with grudgingly.