Wen / Luo curtain light cold
This season, suddenly clear and cloudy, suddenly cold and hot ......
Always feel that "the time has been the spring is not yet feel the spring, do not feel the spring has been spring".
And the spring rain,
Always so hazy, so lingering
Dripping, intermittent ......
Early in the morning, strolling alone in the lotus pond, the fish in the pool, the pool next to the willows, as well as on the road of the grass and the trees, the past day's flamboyance are all the pattering of this soft silk rain. The soft rain washed away, everything has become vivid, just as the memory of the past 。。。。。
Poolside, I, alone, quietly, standing in the silent void, close your eyes and feel a clear spirit. Such an early morning, so like the silk rain, seems very cozy! Quietly, appreciate the nature to bring me the fun, quietly immersed in their own reverie, do not want to be accompanied by anyone, only their own, and at this time I am the most real, so that the heart with their own boundless thoughts flying. At this time, the world belongs to me, I also have the whole world.
In a hurry to go out, forgot to bring an umbrella, let the rain from the sky gently free and unrestrained sprinkled on my hair, I raised my head, looking up at the sky, my eyes began to blur ...... remembered that there was once a friend of mine said to me: girl, sad to look up at the sky, so that the tears will not fall down. I think it is so.
Rain, still good sheep, good quiet. Soft, quiet morning, accustomed to for a person strolling, silent discovery feel everything around. Rain, accompanied by my call, flow to your direction, far away from you, can you hear me for you to write down the dream language? If you hear the soothing song in the dream, your thoughts will stretch with the rhythm of your heartbeat. Because, that melody is dancing lightly in the spring rain I put down for you. Rain, still silent underground, I opened my hands, try to hold the rain in the hands, but I have not yet had time to observe carefully, suddenly by a strange wind swept away from my hands, it has left me, leaving only wet water traces lying in the palm of my hand in the flesh of the slit as well as I lamented the spasm of its life lost.
The rain was still so light and cold that my hands gradually felt cold. Rain, is it the tears of flowers, or is it the rebirth of life? Perhaps, the youth is just like the spring rain in this hand, and it has become stale at the time of tilting it down.
Rain, always can not break the thought; heart, after all, can not be settled. Road, can not go to the end, but can not go back to the original point, I once again blurred eyes looking up at the sky, look at the curtain drop by drop of rain, I do not know why, this morning it is so beautiful.
I can't touch the traces of the rain falling;
No one knows the traces of the rain falling;
Moisturizing is silent.
This hazy, lingering spring rain seems to have brought hope to itself again.
Looking into the distance, infinite reverie.
Rain, mournful to the extreme, beautiful to the extreme
.