Jiangnan spring rain should see can not listen.
Listening, half a day without realizing it; watching, in order to be able to fully understand, y interesting.
Love to look at the market rain upstairs with hands down. If the car is like running water, then the umbrella is the shore flower. The rain, wet rain, make the sky and the world are gloomy. From morning to dusk, the rain is generally deep and thick, only the morning is gradually bright, dusk is gradually dark ear. Fortunately, there is a gorgeous shore flowers silent open, both self-entertainment, but also entertaining.
Cutting the incessant rain, the shore flower stamen temporarily has a dry and slightly warm small world. This piece of small world, solo commuters can serenely think, three to five groups of school people can noisily talk and laugh, first love can reap the novel experience of snuggling up to each other, twilight couples have to support each other to hold the light tacit understanding. Rain, playing wet matters of the heart, but can not suppress the glory of human nature and human feelings. All beings such as the sea a hide, although I am also a small flower in the shore, but this does not prevent me from enjoying myself in my own small patio.
Love in the bamboo forest to see the spring rain shower. Usually the windy, windy bamboo, was rained into a silent group, staid snail in the wild. Looking up at the bamboo crown, such as the sword on the bamboo leaves, falling crystal rain drops, that is the dazzling sword. When I touch the bamboo trunk, it is like touching the cool and smooth skin. I and bamboo, as if superimposed together. Plum, orchid, bamboo and chrysanthemum four gentlemen, each with their own personalities, but at least one of the same **** nature, that is, the lonely and self-appreciating strike, and the bamboo is the most lonely. Du Fu's poem in the absolute beauty, the day cold green sleeve thin, leaning against the bamboo at sunset, is how sentimental but also beautiful mood ah. Leaning on bamboo in the rain, grief is always like people's chimneys curling up like smoke floating. I don't know what to say, but I can't get rid of it.
Looking up at the bamboo on the sky, there is a feather gliding, the heart really have indescribable envy and sadness. Wet heavy rain, to the handsome bamboo are on the shackles, but not detrimental to the lightness of this feather guest freedom. Cold rain, you can wet my loneliness, but you can stop my heart wandering it. Blowing through the verdant bamboo forest of the wind ah, to dye the green attic in the attic of Jiangnan clothes, so that Jiangnan spirit and vivid; drifting through the elegant and clean bamboo forest of the rain ah, to moisturize the red window in the dream, so that Jiangnan sentimental and good sense. Bamboo rain, so that every day in Jiangnan are so tender.
Favorite water to watch the rain. Let me always remember, is that the spring rain canoeing Dayuan Lake. The water is vast and I don't know how wide, the fog is vast and I don't know how deep it is, and the fog is vast and I have a flat boat, and I can't help but feel a sense of freedom.
Spring is like a painting, and the rain is a masterpiece of painting. The brushstrokes, such as mountains, washed by the rain and verdant; for example, grass, by the fog moist and green as jade. The writing, such as the folds of the mountains, taught by the smoke; such as the distant villages, taught by the fog cover - attracting reverie, amusing thoughts. Waves, slowly undulating; boat, gently swaying. Open your eyes, see the boat plowed white waves rolling; close your eyes, in a trance, you will feel yourself in the waves, in the dance. Rapeseed flowers on the shore retreating, retreating, fluttering into yellow ribbons; in front of the eyes of the rain drifting over, drifting over, merging into the cheeks of the cold tear drops. Ah, let this gurgling sound of water take me into a dream, a reed, sailing deeper into the clouds, forward, forward, and at the same time upward, upward, to that distant and splendid Milky Way.
(Previously published in Huangmei No. 1 Middle School, "Selected Student Essays - Teacher's Literary Garden")
Author's introduction: Hong Guibing, Huangmei No. 1 Middle School senior teacher.