In study, work or life, many people have written essays, right, with the help of essays people can realize the purpose of cultural exchange. Writing an essay is clueless? The following is my carefully organized essay on the heart of the rain (selected 8), I hope it will help you.
The heart of the rain essay 1
Missed, does not mean lost forever,
In anticipation and struggle to move forward,
will be able to once again really have.
--- Title
He, in an important examination in the loss, to know, in order to this examination he spent how much effort. He no longer dared to look at the test paper hung with red crosses, and even more afraid to look at the teacher's pair of expectant eyes. Soon, his eyes blurred, he raised his head, avoiding the teacher's gaze turned to the window. The sky is gray, at once, he felt that everything has stood still, only the distant pavilion on the promenade of flowers and vines leaves in the "rustle" sound.
"Ding--" the bell rang, he flew like a fly out of the classroom, because he did not dare to face the ridicule and questioning of his classmates. It was raining heavily, "Is the sky taking pity on me too?" He walked alone on the goat path, the autumn leaves accompanied by the rain fell, at this time it has no original temperament and light ......
"No, I don't need your pity and sympathy!" He ran madly in the rain, aimlessly, in order to vent the emotions in his heart ...... The rain became heavier and heavier, and the rainwater flowed down from the tips of his hair drop by drop, and the world stopped, as if there was only the sound of his footsteps and the sound of the rain falling "crackling". The rain was splashed by him, he was lost, lonely ...... all the troubles, pain from his heart. Suddenly, he fell to the ground, mud and the aroma of flower petals splashed on his clean clothes, the water rippled in a circle of red, is blood! He stood up gently, expressionless and senseless, and stood in the rain.
Nearby, the pavilion promenade is covered with flowering vines, lush, green, full of flowers, fragrant, but under the blow of the storm, the flowers reluctantly left the branches, quietly fell to the soil, and flowed away along the stream made of rainwater. At that moment he felt that he was just like them, no matter how hard he tried he could not win.
A gust of autumn wind blew by, and the only few red maple leaves on the tree quietly fell. The wind is blowing, the rain is falling, he looked at the splash of water droplets as the rain fell, coldly smiled, wanting to let his blood flow down his wrist drop by drop ...... This is a crazy idea. Her heart was broken, for the sake of grades, he could give up everything, why, why was the heavens so unfair to him? "Why-?" His heartbreaking screams were covered by the sound of rain. He stood in the center of the kiosk, wanting to jump and try his hand at death. His thoughts were as chaotic as a jumble, knowing that he was burdened with more than one person's life, as well as the expectations of his parents and teachers, if he died, what would his parents do? ...... When a gust of wind blew by, he couldn't help but wake up, the rainstorm, lightning, thunder ...... is just a small episode in life, they are only temporary, if there is no more of them, life will still be wonderful, life still has meaning? At that moment, he woke up, with the confidence and courage to deal with difficulties and setbacks, he confidently raised his head, facing the wind and rain ...... because he heard the rain's heart:
If, in missing the sun when you shed tears,
then you will miss the group of stars
Missing, it does not mean that the eternal
In the expectation and struggle to move forward,
will be able to have once again.
Life is only once,
Don't give up, don't say defeat easily,
Because success is very close to you ......
Believe in yourself, I can succeed!
With the infinite extension of the dream,
We are fully loaded in the departure ...... He silently read in his heart: Success and victory I have my own creation, failure and frustration I have my own to bear ......
The heart of the rain essay 2Just at this very unsuitable time to come down a rain, drop by drop from the gray-blue sky helplessly fly down. Sprinkled in this gray city. There are only a few people on the street, with a handful of monotonous umbrellas. When I was a child, I hated and hated the rain, and as long as it rained, I was in a bad mood; but I don't know when I started, but I fell in love with the haze of the rain, and the faint fragrance of the leaves that filled the air after the rain. Sitting alone at my desk, with only loneliness to keep me company, I remembered my life in elementary school, nostalgic and helpless. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it.
The rain is not big, drop by drop from the eaves of the house, flowing along the window glass, crossed a long, thin water line, and finally jumped out of the window sill out of my sight. However, the rain was hardly looking in the right place, and the hurrying city could not find a view to match it. Here, it will probably always be busy running around every corner where the wind blows. This is the tragedy of the rain, although the tragedy may not be unattractive. I didn't realize that six years of elementary school had made my life so unforgettable. Every time it rained, I sat alone in the classroom, looking out the window at the raindrops, mercilessly hitting the glass. Thinking about a few years ago, I was still in elementary school, but now I'm in my second year. The sound of "tick-tock" brought me out of my memories. Reality is reality after all. I made a cup of green tea, put it in my hand, and looked blankly out the window. In the leisurely days, but always feel a depressed heart. I thought I would forget everything after being busy, but why is my memory particularly good at this time. Everything around me seems to be so out of place and pretentious. It's hard to maintain my own ridiculous innocence. My eyes filled with this disdain. I say I'm not in the same world as them, but why can't I shake off the loneliness that comes from my heart? I really hate it when people treat me coldly. I tasted a mouthful of tea, tea is really bitter ah, put too much tea leaves. Suddenly, tears came to my eyes, the world became so blurred, the water spread all the way to my heart. I really don't like this rain, it's such a nice weekend, why is it so miserable? Why is "Cry Hard" playing this song? It can't help but bring back some memories. Those wonderful memories may only ever be buried in my heart, in the deepest part of my heart. The cup of green tea is still steaming in my hand, but I have long forgotten the time. Thinking of the days with my friend. "I cried hard for a whole winter, leave you in yesterday as a souvenir, a person back and forth to think, to precipitate, finally understand, love hard to cry the day I finished, I should also forget your face, I'm in the middle of a thought. Saw the spring ...... "Somehow, hear here, the heart of a kind of hard to say the taste. Rain, the sky falling elves, a short wandering career, and you meet is probably the fate of the sky! I want to cry, I cried, without any cover.
Rain, drops in the heart, will stir up the water splash, will cause ripples, and drops in the lake is no different, just more beautiful; then it should also be like the water splash in the lake, ripples, right - fleeting.
The heart of the rain essay 3
The dusk under the rain is hazy, the pedestrians on the street accompanied by the rain dripping footsteps, towards that hazy front.
The green soil seems to have long been implanted with the breath of rain, and the air is filled with the delicacy of rain. A person walking alone in the light rain, the mind seems to be also washed by the rain, in the bustling city, through the long forgotten residential huts, I seem to see the imprint of the rain.
I have forgotten how long I have not walked in the footsteps of the rain, in the end, the rain is a kind of hope, or a kind of just be overly compassionate mood? I have asked myself many times, how much I like the rain, the rain seems to be a friend of my heart, always in the time when I was hurt to come, to appease me with a share of the soul of the sadness.
The sound of dripping rain sounded the drums of dreams, how many times the echo is like the first flute of life, follow the footsteps of the rain to the temple of the soul, the soul has long lost confidence in the moment heard from the rain of the celestial music. This sound of rain seems to come to rinse away the stains of the soul and give people a mind that can get back on the road. When you meet rain in your life, please don't panic, it is just a messenger that comes to wash away the stains of life.
Line like rain line to the sky and the earth vaguely connected together, built up a link between each other's rain bridge. As the rain falls on strange people, the earth always accepts these messengers from the sky. Because it knows that this is its only home. The yellow cover of the street lamps left traces of rain, flower beds in the colorful red flowers are not lost in the footsteps of the rain. Some people say that rain seems like human tears, always arriving when the heart trembles. The rain is not like that. The trembling of the heart is like a way to contact the rain, the rain heard people's voices came to earth, it is a friend we get with the heart, it will not hurt anyone, not because of who is not good for it and give up on him, it will only have been quietly guarding the hearts of everyone, in the depths of our souls with this friend has been enough.
I often indulge in the world of rain, because I can hear the sound of rain, can see the footprints of rain, and can even touch the rain mood. Every time I look at the sky and see the red sky at dusk, I know you will come soon. I look forward to the time when your footsteps can speed up a bit so that I can see you coming.
Sometimes the arrival of rain is mixed with the appearance of gusty winds, and sometimes it comes quietly in the quiet morning sun. Rain is always rather elusive, it is like a naughty child will scare you without your knowledge, give the soul a sudden surprise. It is also like a full-blooded aspiring young man, want to use their own strong rainstorm to change the world of everything. It's more like an old friend who has been through a lot of changes, in countless times in the baptism of wind and rain, know how to use the slightest rain into the hall of life.
The rain gradually became less, the good friend to go. But it is because of its departure, I recognize the pursuit of life, I realize that the rain brings me everything, and I have nothing to give it. But it never complains, it comes with it whenever it listens to the call of my heart to come and tell me about its past. With the sound of dripping slowly step into the depths of my heart, with the vagueness of the rain line to link my heart.
At this moment I smiled, because in front of me is my favorite rain, my favorite rain rain.
Rain's Heart Essay 4The rain, outside the window, never stopped. From the day down to the night, and from the night down to the day, the rain did not have a trace of want to stop the meaning, as if she has to say things, three days and three nights can not be said.
I think that is the heart of the rain! In the sunny sunny days, rain went to travel, she met a lot of new things on the road, which makes her every time she came back, it seems like she wants to confide in people for three days and three nights. Some of what she said, I understood, and some I didn't. When she understood, she continued to talk, and when she didn't, she probably stopped.
Rain is not always as long as three days and three nights. If she traveled to a place with little story but a lot of beauty, she would come back with very little to say, she would only tell me that "beauty has no words", she would only recommend that I go to that place to see or not to see, instead of always sitting at home waiting for her to come back, waiting for her to bring back the ready-made story.
It was still raining and I listened to the stories she was telling when I could. It took her so long to tell them this time, so there must have been many stories about the places she had traveled to before, perhaps places that were not so beautiful, but so stunning in time because of them that she had to tell them all night long for fear that her memories would be fuzzy before she had a chance to tell them.
The heartbeat of the rain, sometimes rustling, sometimes pattering, sometimes with thunder and lightning, like an adolescent, both sentimental side, but also vigorous side. I like the sound of rustling rain, that is the sound of drizzle, but also the sound of gentleness, this sound of the story can make you can not help but want to continue to listen to, did not tell three days and three nights, people will still blame her for telling too little, go too fast.
The rain outside the window, still raining, after the afternoon, there is a night, after the night, there is a morning, listening to the people have a little bit without a little bit of listening, and the rain outside the window, she does not mind, anyway, she is willing to speak, after the story she will also travel again.
The heart of the rain essay 5I wonder if you read me - the heart of the rain.
"Drip, drip ......" is the voice of my heart. I left the embrace of the mother-in-law of the dark clouds, with a light step quietly came to earth. High mountains, it to me open wide bosom; flowers, to me bloom charming smile; air, it with me; earth, it is my last terminal.
"Tick-tock, tick-tock ......" this is my heart sound. In March, I came to spring with the murmur of the breeze. I am the messenger of spring, bringing the hope of spring; I am the close friend of spring, bringing the warmth of spring, I am willing to brave all the life to decorate the spring.
"Tick-tock, tick-tock ......" is my heartbeat. I followed the footsteps of the color change of the field to the summer. The fields are not yet ripe rice waved to me, and the sturdy cows and sheep are in earshot with me. I sang softly by the pond, the fish in the pond to reveal its colorful scales, like in the dance to me.
"Tick-tock, tick-tock ......" was the sound of my heart. I took a brisk step to the golden fall of October. I fell on each skin red, flesh full of swelling fast cracked fruit, light brush to the surface of the skin of the dirt dust; I secretly slipped to the farmers' face, and with the harvest sweat, dissolved in the farmers slightly upward corner of the mouth.
I fell in the spring flowers, summer fields, autumn orchards in the ...... I represent the hope and harvest, my heart is everywhere, as long as you listen carefully with all your heart, a belong to the nature of the wonderful music will be a long time to haunt your ears.
"Drip-da, drip-da ......" Do you hear it?
The heart of the rain essay 6
The water light convergence colorful sunny party good, mountain color empty rain is also strange. Listen, drip drip drip - do you read my heart? I say goodbye to the long white clouds and blue sky, floating to the long parted earth.
I merged into the fresh air, into the vast embrace of the mountains, flowers and grasses sent out an intoxicating aroma, for me to sprinkle a fragrance; then I merged into the warm soil, quietly waiting and everything in nature to have a close contact.
Spring
Tick-tock, tick-tock, please listen quietly to my heart: I stepped in a joyful dance to the early spring of February. I am the hope of spring, I am the messenger of spring, bringing the baptism of spring to all things. I follow the gusts of breeze, hand in hand with wisps of mist, quietly came to the gauze-covered river. I gently drop in every clump of new green grass, I gently brush over every piece of delicate flower face ...... I and willow lovingly entwined, I and willow leaves dancing. Come on, come and sing and dance with me!
Summer
Tick tock, please listen quietly to my heart: I took a light step to July`s midsummer. Passing through the boundless fields I came to a small pond. The pool of lotus flowers snuggle closely, accompanied by green round lotus leaves, in the sunshine bath, looks more elegant and clean. Quiet summer night, bright "croak" sound is a wonderful lullaby, the enthusiasm of the day will be in the night sky in this leisurely slumber. On the grassland, looking out, the grass waves rippling away, flocks of cattle and sheep and I was in the ear, "baa" sound is the heaven and earth to play the Divine Comedy.
Autumn
Tick tock, please listen carefully to my heart: I wear a golden yellow, in October in the golden autumn wandering. A fresh scent pours into the nostrils, making people feel relaxed and happy. I drifted to the fruitful orchard, involuntarily fell on the full soon to rise through the belly of the fruit, gently wash away the dirt and dust for them; I fell on the hard-working farmers uncle raised smile folds, turned into sweat gradually faded in the corners of their mouths.
Tick tock and tick tock, I'm here again. In the eaves and tiles, in the flowers and trees, in the rivers and lakes, you can see my silhouette. As long as you close your eyes and listen quietly, you can hear my voice in every spring morning, summer afternoon, and autumn evening:
I am the rain, the rain of hope and harvest.
The heart of the rain essay 7
Many people say that raindrops are happy elves, but I don't think so, the dripping rain also has a sad heart.
Rain, wind and lightning, the sky seems to be talking about something, I will sit next to the window and listen carefully, if you taste with your heart, you will find that it is the exchange of the sky and the earth, it is the conversation that shook the universe.
The sky does not love the rain, he thinks the rain is lowly, lowly, not qualified to survive with their own ****, so he used his whole body strength, the pain accumulated in the heart for many hours, into the rain, and the rain will be cut, thrown off the clouds. The earth also does not love the rain, she thinks that the rain dirty their own fancy clothes, cover up their own incomparable beauty, she thinks that the rain has the most dirty emotions, so she never accept the rain, she will break the rain, so that it will be turned into a cloud of smoke and faded into the world. Rain only has a mind during the time it travels from the sky to the earth. How was her life ever controlled by herself? How has her movement ever been directed by herself? How was her birth, her death, ever decided by herself? She only represented the pain of the sky, the sorrow of the earth and all the anger of the world, and when she landed, she was terrorized by thunder and lightning, tormented by the winds, bruised by umbrellas, and spurned by the people; yes, the rain was an unloved and unlovely child.
From ancient times to the present, only the literati like rain, love rain, praise rain, "the sky street drizzle moist as crispy, grass color distant look near but no", "rain on the bridge in Xianyang, such as hanging, 10,000 points of the air across the fishing boat", such and such a poem wrote all the beauty of the rain, is it really I'm not sure if I've written all of them. Looking at the city, people's life has been all about the lights, who still cares about the rain that may be misty or pouring? Even if you notice, most of them are also resentment, resentment that the rain blocked their trip, delayed their journey. I can hear that the sorrow of the rain is endless, he came to this world, no friends, only enemies, born with the enemy.
Look at the sky and the earth, they hate Rain so much, I can't understand, if you look into the relationship between them, isn't Rain their child? Why drive their own children to the brink of extinction? All this is perhaps only to cast the rain's mournful temperament!
Rain, endless; night, sleepless.
Rain's Heart Essay 8
Feeling, really feeling the winter's chill is so compelling, plus some rhythmic rain, how can one not have that sadness.
The biting, piercing cold wind, all of which made me emotional and sentimental and romantic. I prefer that rain, the north sleet cleaners of autumn rain of sadness lingering just past, that rain, water like purity, cloud like misty, fog like haze. Bring the dusk, I like to be alone in the rhythm of the rain, walking in the street, like the cold rain, quietly dripping on the body of the feeling, that is a touch of beauty. Especially the raindrops splashing on the ground, bursting a piece of ice flowers that beautiful moment. It makes people feel as if all the songs with rain are a sad story, and I seem to be listening to the sound of this rainy night and experiencing every story with rain. The fresh and cold street with few pedestrians was very quiet and clean in its beauty. A tall tree on the street after the east wind blowing and winter rain washing, leaves from the branches of the tree one by one fluttering down, the air a little more serene, deep breath.
This delicate winter wind and winter rain rose through, it is not as gentle as the spring rain, not as refreshing as the summer rain, not as comfortable as the autumn rain, but it leaves behind memories, sadness and purity of the world, and that after the winter rain is even more will be the pure white snow, waiting for that a share of the good, a share of memories, with a share of the rhythm.