In the morning, I got up, I quickly dressed, ran to the balcony, open the window, a cool smell to me, so comfortable oh. Look, the houses over there, are encrusted with crystal dewdrops, like a pearl. A naughty little raindrops, naughty fall on the road, leaves, like a child in hide-and-seek, how lovely! Look at the cars and bicycles on the road, all slowed down for safety, driving in a very orderly manner.
I was attracted by the scenery, so I went to the nearby square with an umbrella. I was attracted by the scenery, so I took my umbrella to the nearby square. The emerald green lawn is greedily sucking the milk of spring; brightly colored flowers are cleaning their beautiful hair; branches with young yellow leaves are waving green silk.
I slightly licked the water, I did not expect the water is very sweet, like the fairy with branches scattered down the holy water. Now, it is about to enter the rainy season, the rain is large, a small hole in the concave, are the cloud doll's "tears" filled, the soil is also very much like this water, so that her "children" to drink a full.
Ah! What a beautiful scene, what a vibrant scene, what a wonderful scene in the rain! I tried to inhale the fresh morning air as much as possible, nature, how marvelous you are!
Three, poets wield the brush to compete in painting rain: exchange poems about writing about rain
Rain is a natural phenomenon and a natural landscape. Whenever it rains, many people, especially literati, tend to treat rain as a natural scene to view. Misty rain, pouring rain, storm gathering rain ...... a variety of rain state and rain when the wind and rain, lightning and thunder momentum and sound and color, it is very easy to make the literati touched fondness, surging literature, the so-called "piece of cloud on the head of the black, it should be the rain catalyze the poem" (Tang? 6?). 1 Du Fu "with a prostitute cool evening encounter rain") is also, so the ancients will often be on the rain observation and feelings assigned to poetry. Throughout the Chinese nation's literary contours, write a lot of rain poetry, and there is no shortage of famous lines.
Poems about rain
Du Fu, "Joyful Rain on a Spring Night": "Good rain knows the time of the year, when spring is happening. The winds are silent, and the rain is silent. The path is dark with clouds, but the riverboat is bright with fire. When I look at the red wet place, the flowers are heavy in Jin Guan Cheng." Spring is the time of year when everything sprouts and grows, and it is also the time of year when rain is very much needed to moisturize. But spring rain is as expensive as oil, spring rain, is not "good rain"? A "good" word, the author's see spring floating down the joyful mood is quite fully expressed. Three, four sentences spring rain accompanied by a breeze at night, silently moisturize everything, write the role of spring rain, ink and delicate. The last two lines are written early in the morning to see the flowers of Chengdu Jin Chengdu in the spring rain moisturizing, red and moist, the flowers are full of rain and heavy, and thick, written with deep feelings. There is not a single word of "joy" in the whole poem, but the joy is overflowing.
Han Yu's "Early Spring Drizzle": "The drizzle on the sky street is as moist as crisp, and the color of the grass is not as close as it seems in the distance. It is the most favorable spring in the year, and it is absolutely superior to the smoke and willows that fill the imperial capital." The poet praises the drizzle with full passion, sees the big in the small, and implies reason and emotion in the scene. The "drizzle" is compared to the first ripe crisp wine, taste sweet and smooth, moist, even the grass is also stained with rain and dew, the grass in the drizzle is slightly green, close to see not to realize that the distant view of the green. Finally summarized as "the benefits of a year of spring", even the emperor's palace scenery can not be compared. The scenery of early spring is depicted delicately and truly.
Zeng Gui "Su Xiudaozhong, since the night of July 25, heavy rain for three days, autumn seedlings to Su, happy to have made": "overnight sun turned into rain, dreaming back to the cool cold wet lapel. I don't worry about the leakage of beds and beds are wet, and I am glad that the streams and banks are deep. Thousands of miles of rice blossoms should be beautifully colored, and the best sound of five nights of tung leaves. There is no field like mine, and I am still happy to dance, not to mention the heart of the field looking forward to the year." Long drought in the rain, ecstatic, even clothes, bed wet also do not care, expressed the poet's love of rain and concern for people's livelihood.
Su Shi's "Rainstorm in the Hall of Beauty": "A thunder at the foot of the tourists, full of stubborn clouds. The black winds outside the sky blowing the sea standing, Zhedong flying rain across the river. It was very brimming with gold, and a thousand staffs beat the capricorn drums. It aroused the exiled immortals to sprinkle their faces with spring, and poured down the shark's room to pour out the jewels." The whole poem vividly writes out the scene before and after the arrival of the storm: the thunder roars, dark clouds, black winds from the sky, the sea for the erection of its ferocity; heavy rain with the wind flying, by the east of Zhejiang across the Yangtze River, to see the rapidity of its. The sea of the lake rises, the thunder clangs, and the poet's talent bursts forth under the urging of the storm.
Qin Guan "spring": "an evening of light thunder fall ten thousand silk, clear light floating tile blue difference. The love of peony with spring tears, powerless roses lying on the dawn branch." Write light thunder, spring rain pattering down. After the rain cleared, the sun seems to float between the blue tiles that have just been washed by the rain. After the spring rain, the peony with tears, love pulse; rose lying horizontally, delicate manner. Though the scene is mainly written after the rain, it reveals the praise for the nourishing effect of spring rain.
In addition to poems devoted to rain, other poems of the ancients have many lines describing the rain and the scenery in the rain:
"Teng Yun like churning smoke, dense rain such as scattered silk." (Jin ?6?1 Zhang Xie's Ten Miscellaneous Poems) describes rain as dense as scattered silk threads.
"The rainbow is collecting rain, and new streams are flowing on the missing bank." (Southern Dynasty Chen?6?1 Zhang Zhengmian's "Rafting in the Back Lake") writes about a broken rainbow appearing in the sky at the beginning of a sudden summer rain, and the rising lake water flowing out of the gap to form a new stream.
"It is wet with peach blossom rain, and it is not cold with willow wind blowing on the face." (Tang ?6?1 monk Zhinan "absolute lines") apricot blossom blooming season of the rain, kindly will be wet clothes; raise the willow branches of the breeze on the face, people feel warm and sweet, the poet that the scene allegorical feelings, give people a Zen mood.
"A slight rain on the pond, a good wind on the sleeves" (Tang?6.1 Du Mei, "Autumn Thoughts"), a slight drizzle, covered in rain on the pond in the mood; a good wind blowing, the sleeves are born of the warmth of the meaning.
"The rain rushes up the mountain streams, and the clouds are lost to the trees." (Tang ?6?1 Dai Shulun, "Staying at Lingyan Temple") describes the view of the mountains in the rain that the poet saw on the mountain road at Lingyan Temple (located at the northwest foot of Mount Tai in Fangshan, Changqing County, a suburb of Jinan City).
"The fine rain wets my clothes invisibly, and the idle flowers fall to the ground without sound." (Tang?6?1 Liu Changqing's "Farewell to Yan Shiyuan") The description of the wet clothes in the rain, which are invisible, and the idle flowers falling to the ground, which are not heard, can be described in a subtle way.
"Fish come out in the light rain, and swallows slant in the breeze." (Tang?6.1 Du Fu "water threshold to send the heart of one of the two") only "fine rain", the fish party floating, if the rain is not out of the ambush; only "breeze", the swallows square oblique, if the wind is also ambush and do not fly. The scenery in the breeze and rain is well understood and depicted with a lot of interest.
"The pine at the bottom of the stream shakes a thousand feet of rain, and the bamboo in the court shakes a window in the fall." (Tang?6.1 Du Xunhe "summer day to stay in the title Zhang Shanren forest pavilion") to soughing sound of the rain is a metaphor for the sound of the high pine shaking, making the scene interesting.
"The willow branches are heavy with rain, and the pine color is deep with smoke." (Tang?6.1, Zhang Pian "County South Pavilion Banquet") The willow branches are heavy with rain, the branches and leaves are heavier, and in the smoke and rain, the color of the pine is deep.
"The spring tide with rain comes rapidly in the evening, and no one in the wild ferry crosses the boat." (Tang?6.1 Wei Yingwu "Chuzhou Western Stream") spring tide, the evening rain rush, pedestrians broken trail, the wild boat across the ferry, motion and static contrast, more show the wild ferry of the secluded.
"It rains in every house during the yellow plum season, and flowers are everywhere in the grassy pond." (Song ?6?1 Zhao Shixiu's "There is an appointment") depicts the rural scene of rainy yellow plum days in the south of the Yangtze River, with frogs chirping everywhere.
"Outside the forest the singing turtledoves rest from the spring rain, and at the head of the house the apricot blossoms flourish at the beginning of the day." (Song ?6?1 Ouyang Xiu's "Field House") The sound of turtledoves in the distance and the apricot blossoms reflecting the sun in the near distance, the motion and static are appropriate, and the sound and color contrast with each other, showing the bright spring light of the new sunny days after the rain of a farmhouse in the south of the Yangtze River.
"The soil paste wants to move the rain often urges, ten thousand grasses and thousands of flowers a rate open." (Song ?6?1 Fan Chengda "four times in the garden miscellaneous Xing" one of the) spring wind and spring rain, nourishing the earth, grass and trees sprouting, hundreds of flowers open, weaving a picture of vibrant spring scenery.
"Black clouds roll over the ink before covering the mountains, white rain jumping pearl mess into the boat" (Song ?6?1 Su Shi, "June 27th Wanghu Lou drunken book five") write dark clouds roll over as ink, summer showers clouds have not yet had time to cover the mountains, but as jumping pearl-like rain also hit the cabin of the boat skyward.
"The wind is like the plucking of a mountain nu, and the rain is like the pouring of a decisive river." (Song ?6?1 Lu You, "Made in a Heavy Rain") describes the fierce wind and rain.
"The sound of thunder falls on a thousand roaches, and the color of rain comes on ten thousand peaks." (Ming ?6?1 Li Panlong, "In the Road of Guangyang Mountain") Thunder roars, like a thousand peaks collapsing; torrential rain pours down, smoke and clouds roll in, like ten thousand peaks coming to meet you, writing out the momentum of the great thunderstorm.
"A goose casts down to the end of the sky, and ten thousand mountains float at the beginning of the rain." (qing?6.1 chashanxing's "boarding baowu building") the first sentence is about the rainstorm, the geese fly to avoid the rain; the second sentence is about the rapidity of the rainstorm, the mountains seem to be floating in the rain.
Also, there are many poems that use rain to express emotions. For example, "The wind and rain are as dark as the sky, and the rooster is crowing." (Poetry?6.1 Zheng Feng?6.1 Wind and Rain) is originally written about the scene of wind and rain, darkness, and chickens crowing, but now it is used as a metaphor for political darkness and people's longing for social clarity.
"Autumn winds of ten thousand miles of hibiscus country, twilight rain of a thousand Xue Li village." (Tang?6.1 Tan Yuzhi's "Rain on Xiangjiang River in Autumn") On the banks of the Xiangjiang River, the autumn wind is blowing strongly, and the lotus flowers are competing for hair, which makes the scenery quite good; while thousands of villages and houses, with wild vines all over the walls, are covered in the heavy twilight rain, which makes them depressed. The two lines are opposite to each other, with the good scenery more contrasting with the people's hardship and emaciation of the meaning.
"You ask for the return date is not yet the period, Bashan night rain rises autumn pool. When **** cut the candles in the west window, but talk about Bashan night rain." (Tang ?6?1 Li Shangyin "night rain send north") Poet looked out the window of the continuous autumn rain, can not help but be distracted, imagining the return home and his wife in the west window under the candle night talk, talking about their own in the night rain in Bashan sleepless night of the long night of the love.
"The mountains and rivers are shattered and the wind is fluttering, and the world is floating and the rain is beating the ping pong." (Southern Song Dynasty ?6?1 Wen Tianxiang's "Passing through Zero Dingyang") The Yuan soldiers invaded the Song Dynasty, the country was in trouble, the mountains and rivers were shattered like the wind blowing willow flakes, and the individual's life was like the rain hitting the floating ping-pongs, which were at any time in danger of sinking.
"Begonia does not spare rouge color, independent of the drizzle." (Song ?6?1 Chen and Yi "Spring Cold") borrowed in the drizzle proudly independent of the flowers of the sea, the author of the uncompromising spirit with the forces of violence.
"The sun sinks into the pavilion at the beginning of the stream clouds, and the mountain rains come to fill the building." (Tang ?6?1 Xu Hun, "The East Building of Xianyang City") truly describes the windy scene of the city building before the onset of the mountain rain, and was later used as a metaphor to refer to the tense atmosphere before the imminent occurrence of a major event.
"The small building listens to the spring rain overnight, and the deep alley sells apricot blossoms in the morning." (Song?6.1 Lu You, "Lin'an Spring Rain") Spring night living in a small building, listening to the sound of wind and rain all night, thinking of the apricot blossoms bloom buds, tomorrow morning rain cleared up, the sound of apricot blossoms for sale, the state of mind can not help but this cheerful.
"Spring rain breaks the bridge people do not degree, small boat propped out of the willow shade to." (Song ?6?1 Xu俯 "春游湖")春雨中游湖，桥断被阻挡，何其怅惘；忽然間，柳阴下小舟悠悠而来令人喜出望外! No love is expressed, but love is subtly expressed in the details of the twists and turns of the description.
"I have been in the capital for many years, but I suddenly heard the spring rain and remembered the south of the river." (Yuan ?6?1 Yu Ji "Listening to the Rain") The poet has lived in the capital for many years, no longer like that year so that there is a strong longing for the hometown, but homesickness has always been depressed in the heart, that a burst of spring rain, can not help but evoke the author's thoughts of the spring color of Jiangnan.
The rain is the most unusual, one is three or two days. Don't be annoyed, look, like cow hair, like flower needle, like fine silk, densely woven diagonally, people's roofs are all caged in a layer of thin smoke. The leaves of the trees, however, are so green that they shine, and the grass is so green that it forces your eyes. In the evening, on the lamp, a little yellow light, baked a quiet and peaceful night. In the countryside, on the path, by the stone bridge, there are people walking slowly with umbrellas; there are also farmers working in the field, wearing straw raincoats and hats. Their houses, sparse and sparse, are silent in the rain.
Follow me to step on the soil of the fields and gardens, which will be as moist as ointment
Go and see the pastures about to sprout new seedlings that will endure the winter
Walk around the ponds and say hello to the jumping fishes
Listen to the streams practicing their new laundry rhymes
3. The clouds haven't yet filled the sky, and the ground is already very dark, and the very bright and very hot sunny afternoon suddenly turns into a night. It was as if the sunny afternoon had suddenly turned into a dark night. The wind was carrying the rain stars, as if searching for something on the ground, crashing in the east and the west. A red flash in the distance to the north was like lifting a piece of black cloud, revealing a large piece of blood. The wind was less, but it was so strong that it made people shiver. After a wind like this, everything is somehow good, even the willows are waiting for something with uncertainty. Another flash, is the head, white bright rain followed down, very hard, smashed up a lot of dust, soil slightly with rain. A few big raindrops hit Xiangzi's back, he shivered twice. The rain stopped, black clouds spread evenly all over the sky. Another wind, more powerful than before, willow branches flying horizontally, dust to all directions, rain down; wind, earth, rain, mixed in one place, joined together, horizontal and vertical are gray, cold, everything is wrapped in it, can not tell which is the tree, which is the ground, which is the cloud; all four sides of the whole mess, the whole sound, the whole confusion. The wind passed, leaving only straight channels of rain, pulling the sky and the earth to hang down, can not see a strip, just so a piece, a burst, the ground shot up countless arrows, the houses fell thousands of waterfalls. In a few minutes, heaven and earth were already inseparable, the river in the air fell down, the river on the ground flowed horizontally, and it became a grayish, dimly colored, and sometimes white and bright, a water world. --Lao She "under the scorching sun and torrential rain" V. Tasting Ancient Poems in the Rain
1. Spring rain breaks the bridge and people don't degree, the boat props out the willow shade. --Song ?6?1 Xu俯《春游湖》
2. Spring tide with rain comes in the evening, no one in the wild boat crosses the river. --Tang?6?1 Wei Yingwu "Chuzhou West Stream" 3. Black clouds turn over the ink without covering the mountains, white rain jumping beads into the boat. --Song. Su Shi, "the 27th day of the first month of the Lake Tower drunken book"
Rainy day reading ancient poems rainy day is most of the day to read ancient poems. When you open the half-mu square pond and draw the curtains made of rain, you will be filled with a classical atmosphere. There is no need for the leisure and comfort of the green benches, rejecting the bustle and bustle of the birds and flowers, and just letting the rain fall, moisturizing the thirsty heart. Away from the world crowded, get rid of a "tired" word, alone into their own three flavors of the bookstore, so that the eyes tired of the mundane, in the ancient poetry rest between the lines. So there are tears of longing, dots and dashes, wet bananas; hometown love, confused, caged on the road; there are bamboo rhymes, drenching, sprinkled to the post road; so there is a guest house willows and streams and frogs; there is the apricot blossom village with wine flag wind Bashan night there are candles at the West Window; there are the village of water and mountainous countryside, there is a street of the Emperor's Capital with a wild path of black clouds and the riverboat fire; there is a shepherd's boy's piccolo and a fisherman's hat of Ruo has a mountain of the front of the Cuiwei has a South Dynasty of the platform; there are tears of Spring Paeonia has lying on the dawn branch of the rose has a night on the beach of the carp has a tie poplar boat boat; so the old Du spring night chanting oh, small Du Qingming ask the way; Lu Fangweng lying listening to the end of the night, the monk Zhinan staff across the bridge east; Yi'anju Shi sigh green fat and red skinny, Chengzhai master appreciate the heart of the lotus is presented to the beads; Zhang Zhihe canoeing and angling do not have to return to the West Lake, Su Dongpo make-up and thick painted to be; and so there is always too much of the so, with a series of the generation of leading the talent in a wet atmosphere In the wet atmosphere, such as swallow oblique Xiang ......
Oh, the rainy day to read ancient poetry, read fresh, read in a trance; read easily, read heavy heavy; read happily, read sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly. Rainy day reading ancient poetry, read yourself into a rainy poem, floating in the "grass color distant look near but no" on the countryside, pattering ......
Sixth, stopped to watch the rain
The high view of the storm Wen / Wu Daini The weather is sweltering hot and irritating, went out on the balcony, the weather is very hot. irritating, walked out onto the balcony, still breathless. A moment later, the bright white world outside was suddenly overcast, and a dark curtain pressed sharply down on the earth. The wind picked up, and it carried the rain with it, crashing a little to the east and a little to the west. At that moment, the birds in the trees were so frightened that they flew wildly on their wings, and the pedestrians downstairs looked for their way back as if they were avoiding the plague. When it was too late, it was too soon, when the people in the high-rise building had not fully reacted, the raindrops fell from the sky like a million armies, and the rain poured down to cover the sky! The rain was like a crazed beast, with a huge roar, defying all odds and declaring! Usually in the high buildings feel the warm wind, suddenly changed its face, roaring, with the rain swept to the earth, the power lines kept swaying, the trees like a magic like wild dance, leaves were blown back to the sky, the closest building tree tops repeatedly swept the wall, the roots of the tree like in the struggle to break free from the ground ...... rain is still pouring down wildly, at a glance, the earth is not Clear, numerous high-rise buildings can only see the outline of a few neighboring, the water tower is only a vague figure, the road is also invisible and hidden ...... water even the sky, the sky even the water, dense piece. Suddenly, the chaotic black sky cracked open, revealing an irregular set of several lines, incomparably strong light from the lines flashed out, accompanied by a deafening roar, for the storm shouting and cheering. The wind and rain were violent, and the lightning and thunder stirred the earth and shook the mountains! Ten minutes passed, the thunder and lightning stopped, the wind also converged some, the field of vision is clear again. The "sky arrow" is still constantly shooting to the roof, each piece of tile in the formation of endless "waterfall" rushed to the ground, combined with the high-rise drainpipe rushed out of the wall of water and the water flowing under the trees ...... So many large and small "rivers", whistling forward, flowing endlessly, running to the flat wide road, running to the big river. Drainage is not as good as a moment, and the formation of large or small "flat lake", the light can be seen. The wind slowly stopped, the rain slowly stopped, the trees are still standing; a building after the "sprinkler", steam steam, the roof of the short house washed by the rain, a new, watery, near and far, a new world!
Appreciation of Prose
Rain's Random Thoughts by Wang GuozhenSometimes, it's sunny outside, but the heart is clear; and sometimes, it's sunny outside, but the heart is raining. Many things in the world are in contrast for you to savor. When the heart is clear, the rain is also clear; when the heart is raining, the clear is also rain.
But no matter what kind of story is told, it is unforgettable when it rains. There is a magic in rain: it can fill a mood, saturate an atmosphere, and engrave a memory. Of course, sometimes it can also splash into a disaster. The sandy winds of spring, the muggy summers, and the dry autumns all make people pray for rain. A rain can also make the air much fresher and the streets much brighter, "spring rain is as expensive as oil", the desire for rain is not only farmers have.
When there is rain, there is neither sun nor moon, but people do not think so. Perhaps the rainy season climate is not cold, let the sun side of the cooler will be good. The rainy nights have a different flavor that the moon nights do not have. Sometimes I can't help but think of Li Shangyin's famous line "when *** cut the candles in the west window, but talk about Bashan night rain".
Walking in the drizzle is a rare pleasure. Listening to the sound of the rain gently knocking the big leaf poplar or sycamore tree that broad leaves when the rustle, that kind of nourishment to the heart of the wonderful, even if it is Richard ?6?1 Clyde Mann piano flow out of the "Autumn Whispers" like the elegant melody is also difficult to compare. Nature's artistry is unparalleled," he said.
It's not unusual for a pair of lovers to walk down an alley. But on a rainy day, there is a light blue umbrella in your hand, and a beige windbreaker on your body, which is a very different effect. At a glance, the young man in the rain is a readable picture.
In the north, 365 days a year, there are not many days with rain. So if a day comes along when there is rain like a poem or a poem like rain, it feels curious.
Seven: My feelings
Listen to the cold rain
Yu Guangzhong
After the hibernation, the spring cold intensified. First the material is craggy, and then the rainy season began, sometimes drenching, sometimes pattering, the sky tide wet, even in the dream, also seems to put the umbrella. Even in my dreams, I seem to be holding an umbrella, but even if I can dodge a cold shower with an umbrella, I can't dodge the whole rainy season. Even my thoughts are moist. Every day to go home, zigzagging through the Golden Gate Street to Xiamen Street labyrinth of long alleys and short lanes, rain and wind, walking into the Faye is even more intriguing. I want to think of this kind of Taipei bleak and sincere completely black and white film flavor, think of the whole of China's entire Chinese history is nothing more than a black and white film, the beginning of the film to the end of the film, has always been such a rain. This feeling, I do not know if it is from Antonioni. But that piece of land was a long time coming, twenty-five years, a quarter of a century, and even when there was rain, it was separated by a thousand mountains and a thousand umbrellas. Twenty-five years, and everything was broken, only the climate, only the weather reports still held together. A great cold front rolled in from that land, a coldness I shared with the ancient continent. Can not jump into her arms and be swept by the edge of her skirt is also a consolation of childishness .
When he thought of this, there was a little warmth in the cold. He is a Xiamenite, or at least a Xiamenite in the broader sense of the word. For twenty years, he has not lived in Xiamen, he has lived on Xiamen Street, which is sort of a mockery, but also a comfort. But speaking of broadly speaking, he is likewise a Jiangnan man in the broad sense of the word, a Changzhou man, a Nanjing man, a Chuan Waer, a Wuling boy. Apricot blossom spring rain Jiangnan, that is his teenage years. In half a month is Qingming. Antonioni s camera swings past, swings past and swings over. The remnants of the mountains are as if they were water. The Emperor and the Queen of Heaven are just like that. The people from the north to the south are as if they were all in one place. Is that China in there? Of course it is still China, it will always be China. But the apricot blossom spring rain is no longer, the shepherd boy remote finger is no longer, the Jianmen fine rain Weicheng light dust is also no longer. But where is the land that he dreamed of day and night?
In the front page headlines of newspapers? Or in the rumors of Hong Kong? Or is it in Fu Cong's black keys and white keys or Ma Sicong's jumping bow and plucking strings? Or is it in Antonioni's Mirror Bottom Lemazhou's Lookout? Or is it in the rhymes of Taibai and Dongpo in the gongs and drums of Peking Opera in the wall heads and glass cases of the Palace Museum?
Almond blossoms. Spring rain. Jiangnan. Six square characters, perhaps that piece of soil is in there. And no matter whether the red county or the state or China, change to change, as long as the Cangjie inspiration is not extinguished, the beautiful Chinese is not old, the image, the magnet-like centripetal force when the inevitable long in. Because a square character is a heaven and earth. In the beginning, there were words, so the Han people's hearts, ancestral memories and hopes will have a support. For example, write a "rain" word out of thin air, dripping, pouring, pattering, pattering, pattering, pattering, pattering, pattering, pattering, pattering, pattering, pattering, pattering, all the clouds and rain, just like it. This visual sense of beauty, is not what can satisfy? Turn over a "Dictionary" or "Dictionary", gold, wood, water, fire and earth, each into the world, and one into the "rain" department, the ancient God's face of the sky, will be noted in the hope of the beautiful frost, snow, clouds and clouds, horrifying thunder and lightning thunderstorms, showing nothing more than the God's good temper and bad temper, the meteorological station is tired of reading the encyclopedia of laymen do not know what to think.
Listen to that cold rain. Look, that cold rain. Sniff it, that cold rain. Lick it, that cold rain. The rain is on his umbrella, on the umbrellas of millions of people in this city, on their raincoats, on their houses, on their antennas. Rain on Keelung Harbor, on the breakwater, on the boats in the strait, clearing this season's rain. Rain is feminine and should be most sensual. The rain is airy and psychedelic, and when you smell it carefully, it is fresh and clean, with a little bit of mint flavor. Thick time, even issued after the grass and trees MuFa unique light earthy, perhaps that is even earthworms and snails fishy, after all, is the hibernation ah, perhaps the ground of the underground life, perhaps the ancient Chinese layered memories are stupid and wriggle, perhaps the plant's subconscious mind and dream it, that fishy.
The third time I went to the United States, I lived in the high mountains of Denver for two years. The west of the United States, mountainous and desert, thousands of miles of drought. The sky, blue like the eyes of the Anglo-Saxons; ground, red like the skin of the Indians; clouds, but rare white birds. Rocky Mountain clusters of dazzling snowy peaks, seldom floating clouds and fog. One to high, two to dry, three to the forest line above, cedar also stop, Chinese poetry in the "swinging chest layer of clouds", or "Shangliu dusk rain" interest, is difficult to see the scene on the Rocky Mountains. The victory of the Rocky Mountains, in the stone, in the snow. Those strange rocks, stacked on top of each other, build a thrilling sculpture exhibition, to the sun and thousands of miles of wind to see. That snow, white and illusory, cold and sober, that the capped never end of the momentum of a hard to exhaust, press people breathing difficult, cold heart and eyes acid. However, to appreciate the "white clouds back to look together, green mist into see no" realm, still have to go back to China. Taiwan's humidity is very high, the most fertile clouds dense rain disorientation mood. Twice at night at the head of the stream, the tree fragrance refreshing nose, night cold attack elbow, pillow Run Bicui wet green pale overlapping mountain shadow and all the music are resting in the silence, like a fairy to sleep. The mountain night full of rain, the next morning, wake up in the primitive quiet of the rising sun has not yet risen, rushing overnight cold, stepping on the ground full of broken ke broken branches and is still flowing in the thin strands of rain, a path into the secrets of the forest, winding, stepping up to the mountain. The mountain at the head of the stream, dense trees and fog, luxuriant water rising from the bottom of the valley, sometimes thick and sometimes sparse, steaming colorful, illusion of uncertainty, only from the fog breaks through the clouds to open the empty space, a glimpse of the peaks and half-ravines that appear to be hidden, in order to take a panoramic view of the whole picture, is almost impossible. At least into the mountains twice, only in the white haze and the Xitou peaks to play hide-and-seek games, back to Taipei, the world asked about, in addition to smiling but not answering the heart from the free, pretending to be mysterious outside, the actual impression of the mountains in the nothingness of nothing more than. Cloudy and smoky, mountain hidden water of the Chinese landscape, from the Song Dynasty to give people the flavor of painting. The world may be the world of the Zhao family, but the landscape is the landscape of the Mi family. And in the end, is the rice father and son pen like Chinese landscape, or Chinese landscape on paper like Song painting. I'm afraid it's anyone's guess.
Rain can not only smell, can be seen, can listen. Listen to the cold rain. Listen to the rain, as long as it is not a stone-cold typhoon storm, in the sense of hearing is always a kind of beauty. The mainland in the fall, whether it is sparse rain drops Sycamore, or sudden rain hit the lotus leaves, listen to always have a little bleak, bleak, bleak. Now on the island to recall, in addition to the bleak, more covered with a layer of bleak fascination. Spare you how much chivalry, I'm afraid also can not withstand the wind and rain three times. A dozen young people listen to the rain, red candle sinking. Two dozen middle-aged listening to the rain, the guest boat, the river broad clouds low. Three dozen white head listening to the rain in the monk's hut. This is the pain of the death of the Song Dynasty, a sensitive heart of life, upstairs, on the river, in the temple, with cold rain beads strung together. Ten years ago, he had lost himself in a heart-breaking ghost rain. Rain, should be a drop of wet souls, shouting out the window who.
The rain hit the trees and tiles, the rhyme are crisp and audible. Especially the clanging on the roof tiles, that ancient music, belongs to China. Wang Yuxu in Huanggang, broken as rafters of large bamboo for roof tiles. It is said that when one lives on top of a bamboo building, the sound of rapid rain is like a waterfall, and the sound of dense snow is like broken jade. And whether drumming the qin, chanting poetry, playing chess, throwing pots, **** chirping the effect is particularly good. This is not like living inside the bamboo tube, any delicate sound, afraid of doubling the exaggeration, but rather people's ears allergic to it.
Rainy day roof tiles, floating wet stream of light, gray and gentle, meet the light is slightly bright, backlight is dark, for the visual, is a low sense of comfort. As for the rain knocking on the scales and thousands of petals on the tile, from far and near, gently heavy gently, sandwiched between a strand of fine streams along the tile grooves and eaves gurgling down, a variety of percussive sounds and sliding sounds densely woven into a network, who's thousands of fingers in the massage of the earwheel. "It's raining." The gentle gray beauty came, her icy slender hand on the roof fingering the countless black keys ah gray keys, playing the noon into dusk at once.
On the old continent, a thousand houses are so. More than twenty years ago, when I first came to this island, the Japanese-style tiled houses were the same. First, the sky darkened, and the city looked like it was covered in a giant sheet of glass, the shadows lengthening and deepening inside the homes. Then cool water filled the space, the wind swirled from every corner, and I could feel the gray clouds covering every roof as it breathed heavily. The rain came, the lightest percussion music beat the city, the pale roof, far and near, a sheet knocked over, the old piano, the rhythm of the fine and dense, monotonous in its own a we have a soft and friendly, drip drip drip drip, seemingly unreal, if a child in the cradle, a song of familiar nursery rhymes shaking sleep, the mother chanting oh nose and throat sound. Or in Jiangnan's water country, a large basket of green mulberry leaves were engaged in a thousand silkworms, fine and trivial, mouthpiece and mouthpiece chewing and chewing. The rain came, the rain came when the tile so say, a tile say, a hundred billion version of the tile say, gently play it sinking play, slowly knocking it tart tart hit, intermittent knocking a rainy season, improvisation from the hibernation to the Qingming, in the scattered graves on the cold play elegy, a tile chant a hundred billion pieces of tile chant.
Listen to the rain in the old Japanese-style house, listen to the April, faying incessant yellow moldy rain, night and day, ten months stretched, wet sticky moss from under the stone steps has been invasive to the bottom of his tongue, the bottom of his heart. In July, listening to typhoons and rain in the ancient house of a night blind play, a thousand seabed heat wave boiling by the gusts of the wind, overturning the entire Pacific Ocean just to his short roof pressed down, the whole sea in his snail shell clattered through. Otherwise, it is the night of thunderstorms, listening to the capricorn drums pass and pass in the white-smoke gauze tent, the torrential rainstorms rushing in, the powerful electric lute apprehensive, the palpitations of the flicked roof tiles wanting to be lifted up. Otherwise, it is a slanting northwest rain slanting, brush on the windowpane, whip on the wall hit in the broad banana leaves, a spring rinse diarrhea, autumn will be filled with Japanese-style courtyard.
Listen to the rain in the old Japanese-style house, spring rain to hear the autumn rain, from teenagers to middle-aged, listen to the cold rain. Rain is a monotonous and durable music is indoor music is outdoor music. Listen to it indoors, listen to it outdoors, listen to it cold, that music. Rain is a kind of memory music, listen to that cold rain, memories of the rain in Jiangnan is full of rivers and lakes under the bridge and the boat, but also under the Sichuan in the rice paddies and frog ponds, under the fertilization of the Jialingjiang River under the wet Bugu cooing cries. Rain is moist moist music down in the eager lips lick that cold rain.
Because the rain is the most primitive percussion music from the other side of the memory. Tile is the most lowly musical instrument gray and gentle covering the people who listen to the rain, tile is the umbrella of music held up. But soon the era of apartments came, Taipei how you grow taller all of a sudden, the music of the tile has become extinct. Thousands of pieces of tile fluttering, beautiful gray butterflies have flown away into the memory of history. Now it rains down, on the concrete roofs and walls, a rainy season without sound. The trees are also cut down, that laurel