I stood at the window, imitating Mr. Zuo 'an, watching the rain curtain for half a night and listening to the sound of the rain for half a night. Don't ask whether it's the rain or my leisure. At this moment, I look at the rain and worry, and the rain looks at me thin.
Rain, when I turn around tomorrow, you are the rain in the old place. The rain in the old place may meet again after many years, and your name cannot be changed. And you who are with me tonight have a kind of regret called tears.
The old place is mine, not all of them used to be. What I have, what I once had, has long been engraved in my bones, dripping in my blood, warm and always accompanying my life. The rain in the old place is not just an idea. Even your shadow is attached to me. Relax naturally when unloading.
Rain, you are so cute. Just maybe staying here for half an hour reminds me of Dai Wangshu's deep rain lane, oil-paper umbrella and lilac-like girl. Rain, why are you acting like a Jiangnan woman? "Soft hands, skin coagulation, collar like dragonfly, teeth like rhinoceros, head like moth eyebrow, smile smart, eyes looking forward to." I was probably talking about you.
I think I should promise you a sea of flowers. Purple lavender should be your favorite appearance.
What you like must be what I like. It is not attached, nor far-fetched, but a proper nature. Misty and rainy forest city, tick out a frame of natural ink and wash, rain falls in the desert, but it is an old forest city. The melancholy of rain has nothing to do with desert and Lincheng.
What kind of mood does the rain in the old place bring? It's like I'm sitting in front of the window, counting the rain outside the window and counting the bits and pieces of life. What's my mood now? Nobody knows.
It's still raining outside, but I can't count the rain. The rain in the old place no longer belongs to me alone. Perhaps, one day after many years, I will still think of you when I meet the rain again in the old place. The rain in the old place is happy music, not the tears of acacia.
The locust trees and flowers in the old place have already bloomed. The rain in the old place blew away April, leaving a refreshing fragrance of flowers. It's just that it's hard to see Sophora japonica in May.
This is the best time to say goodbye, and the letter from Xiaoyixian is also a model. If I only meet you in my life, it will be like a dream. Seeing you again is fate. At this time, I don't know each other. I hope China will shine on you every month.
Chang 'an is a stranger to Infinite Tree, and only Yang Wan can leave. Turn around and still don't give up. The rain drops on the osmanthus tree downstairs, and the leaves rise and fall, just like the thoughts in my heart.
Lincheng, especially after the rain, is a kind of mood. When the seasons are reversed, it is difficult to stop falling.
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? 17 at the police station in the morning