Chapter 1: Spring scenery in misty rain.
There is a lot of silk in the sky above the avenue, which is as delicate and moist as butter. The grass is vaguely connected in the distance, but it looks sparse in the near future. In March, it's foggy and rainy, and there are fresh flowers in the warm air. The vast land is covered with a little new green, and the wedding clothes of flowers are gently covered and swaying in the wind to show people's posture. Pieces of red flowers curled up in the air, spread on colorful dresses and sprinkled on the tender faces of young plants.
In spring, a heart full of girlish feelings scatters love all over the earth with the spring rain. Under the gentle touch of raindrops, the towering buds gently spread out their smiles, and that shy smile was ecstatic because of spring.
Flowers, graceful women, are waiting on that branch, waiting for a lover, opening their hearts for him and blooming enchanting. The arrival of spring is not necessarily the waiting of all flowers, but the beautiful and blooming image under the spring rain is definitely a beautiful marriage in the past.
Spring rain, a warm soul, is a warm dialogue in the depths of the soul and the simplest and most touching poem in the language of love. It stands quietly under that sky, without arrogance or rashness, injecting everything into a smart soul and pouring its thoughts into its lover's side.
Bud, green and lush all over the world, you are the clear spring of the soul, the dew in the desert, the bud of new life and the prosperous future. At this moment, in this world of ink and wash, your existence is so fit and beautiful and elegant.
Love, my spring flowers, my previous life contract, my present life, my eternal life, my seas run dry and the rocks crumble, my love, in this new green, in this colorful * * *, in this bustling raindrop, under this peach blossom tree with petals flying, are you ready to hold up that oiled paper umbrella for me and gently hold me in the rain?
Warm spring breeze, gently fluttering hair, blowing you and holding me behind you. You're not angry or angry. You just tilt your head and gently kiss my forehead. I don't dodge, and I'm not delicate. I lean on you, put my head on your left chest, and feel a heartbeat I agree with in your steady heartbeat.
Petals came with the wind and landed gently on my hair. You gently pick them up and tell me that the flowers are happy for us, too. The wicker on the river bank brushed the ground, and the waves in Hanoi rippled and walked hand in hand in the drizzle. You are my raincoat and I am your cotton-padded coat. So we fell in love silently and rejoiced silently. This spring, peach blossoms are very gorgeous, just like love is flowing freely.
A spring rain, a layer of warmth March drizzle gently warms up and waits under the spring rain. This season, the flowers are overflowing, and the raindrops whisper softly, as if they were private confidences between lovers, dribs and drabs, full of sweetness. The rape blossoms in the countryside are full of fragrance. If you accidentally get lost in Shan Ye, please follow the golden flower, and she will guide you to find a warm home. The rain in early spring reminds me of the slight cold, and I wander quietly under the rain. Can I smell love with flowers this season? Waiting for the flowers to bloom, waiting for the arrival of spring, hoping to meet you and embrace warmth in this colorful spring.
Chapter 2: Time goes by, misty and rainy.
Perhaps, lonely and cold afternoon is my lonely and sad song. Outside the window, it is dripping with rain that never seems to pity the grass. Gradually, the grass lay prone on the ground and even broke the petals all over the floor. At the window, the cold wind blew gently, passing over my forehead, bringing a little rain to my face, only a little cold. My heart is a little chilly, and the rain seems to have hurt another person's heart. There is no temperature, only intermittent pain seems to be in someone's heart.
Leaning against the window, quietly listening to the broken rain, thinking about the past, although I know I can't go back. The cold wind is blowing, which seems very loud. Whose whimper is a cry, and whose sorrow does it bring? The same rainy season, that summer, was silent. On the way, the willow branches fluttered gently with the wind, and the 3,000 moss under your willow fluttered with the wind. But how can this wind and rain understand the beauty of that world? Ruthlessly hit your face, breaking your beautiful face, and the hair on your forehead tightly stuck to your face ... It was another cold wind, and the faint sadness echoed in my heart. After all, I can't go back. Maybe I am a stranger when I meet you. The passing water rainbow, prosperity is still a dream.
How many strays are at the feet of how many pursuers, but how many memories are engraved by the years, bit by bit, like the rainy season that never stops, lingering in my heart. Even if I want to forget my sadness, how can the unforgettable notch be easily erased? After all, it left a little, gentle and deepest "mark". The rain is still falling, they are so leisurely and broken on the ground, but they will still flow slowly and slowly. Pursuing the unknown confusion ...
As time goes by, my thoughts are still pieced together with time, but I can't piece together a happy past. There is no result to tell, just wait quietly, and the rain is falling quietly. Is it because she, like rain, doesn't know that there is such a waiting teenager ahead? It's just that teenagers have a self-evident wait because of such a little worry, which may come quietly with the passage of time. Memories are flowing, the rain in late spring is always so cool, the rain in the morning is so quiet, the wet face is so delicate, and the broken bangs stick to the face as before, but the years have passed and the time has passed, which has changed a lot. The rain seems to be a little heavy, crackling on the ground, and the grass is lying tighter. Maybe it will be the same when we meet again. So does Tao, but she can't go back to the past after all.
After thousands of years, I finally feel right. However, in the end, I suddenly felt lost and came to this step, but the road was still wrong. Is it a trick of fate, or is this journey still confused ... pick up a pebble and throw it into the world surrounded by rain, splashing a little. After all, raindrops fall again, which is not the original trajectory. However, it will continue to flow, what is waiting ahead? ...
Time flies, missing brings life closer, but it is still a slight injury. Although there was a little happy time, it was finally occupied by this injury. I still want to hear the cheerful and unrestrained voice, like the rain, which has not changed the cold breath for many years. Once a heart full of surprises and uneasiness, but it was a dream after all. The apology came gently, whose heart was broken, such as the sudden rain from the sky, which broke on the ground with a bang, but it still flowed slowly. It's just that there is less freedom and more indifference. After all, there is a little gap. When we meet, we are always paying attention, but we are speechless. Leaning against the window to watch the rain, the sky is high and the clouds are light.
Hehe, I lost the direction of youth. Finally, will I go out? Follow the footsteps ahead, hoping to find the right way. The rain hasn't stopped, as before, it seems a little smaller. It's just that the wind has disappeared. Maybe it brings coolness and pursues it again. What is it pursuing? Suddenly I feel that the rain seems to calm my heart a little, but there is always an immortal sadness in my heart.
Yi' an dormitory writes rain: drizzle with dusk, cold and lonely, how can it be a sad word? The rain in the afternoon was not so fine, and it soon got wet when it hit me, but the feeling of cold was even heavier. Worried? Where is the trouble? My heart is more sad.
As dusk approaches, the rain is getting smaller and smaller. Who can I give my longing heart to? I just don't know when the wind will stop blowing again. The memories of missing together are so chaotic that they are always in the past. The long-term memories are between water and sky, and they may not be broken in the end. However, in the future, I only hope that the wind will accompany me and blow away the confused and right people. How much time slips away quietly between your fingers like sand, why bother to miss the sad past?
Chapter III: Foggy and rainy
The spring rain is so fine, like smoke and fog, like a dream, with a touch of sadness and slight sadness, gently woven with three points of softness, lingering in the bottom of my heart into a curtain dream, slowly coming. Probably has a good relationship with this rain. I always like gentle rain, like its agility, elegance, romance, lingering, silent and falling gently. ...
"Free flying flowers are as light as dreams, and endless silk rain is as fine as sorrow". Who is in Yang Liuan, walking with a trace of sadness? The melancholy in the drizzle? Look at the clouds, as thin as gauze, and the green hills are faint, as if nothing had happened; Look at those willows, dancing like a graceful figure of a woman. This drizzle is as gentle as misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. I, a northern woman, like rain, so many people say that women like Jiangnan are gentle. Perhaps it is said that there is a sentimental soul in nature. Flowers bloom and flowers fall, and people come and go, which will cause infinite sadness in my heart. This is probably sentimental. Like misty and rainy weather, like the light dance of rain, touching and graceful as poetry. I like to walk quietly in this misty rain, quietly appreciate and listen to the rain, let my thoughts fly, and weave romantic poems for myself. All the noise in the world will be drowned in this silent rain.
In this way, a person walks silently in the rain, pursuing a person's dream, and his thoughts are flowing quietly. I have a soft spot for rain, and I love bone marrow. Perhaps, everything is karma, which is closely related to the rainy alleys, green slates, oil-paper umbrellas, small bridges and flowing water, misty and rainy people in the south of the Yangtze River. Maybe it's all because there is a dream in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, you are in the dream in the south of the Yangtze River and you are in the painting in the south of the Yangtze River. In this way, I prefer this drizzle like the south of the Yangtze River, and I prefer walking in this drizzle, singing softly, telling tenderness, and making my heart crowded in the spring rain.
The drizzle wet a person's ecstasy. The rain falls gently, on the hair, on the forehead, on the ground, in the heart and in the dream. I am writing a poem, for you, for the branches of spring can sing and dance lightly. And you, are you writing poems for me? That shallow whisper will make this misty rain more poetic and lyrical, and it will become the most romantic story in spring. What is the fate of meeting? Like the beauty of flowers, let the whole spring fly with colorful wings! The romantic heart in the rain in the south of the Yangtze River knows best. The sadness falling like rain and dew among flowers has passed through the brisk rhyme of March and entered the beautiful scenery of April. The catkins in Jiang Nanyu are fluttering, the spring water in Su Causeway is overflowing and the flowers are blooming in the wind. Rain gently drifted across dusty palms and fell into a lonely heart.
Listen, how many years of the world of mortals have been sent away by the morning bell and dusk drum, and its shallow whisper has shaken off the loneliness of a place for me, picking flowers and carrying acacia, waiting quietly in the misty rain and listening to my inner whisper. A sigh, gently picked up by you, gathered in your arms, warmth spread in the misty rain. Gently spread out the palm of your hand, hold a touch of coolness, cross the river of the heart, pull open the strings of missing, dance for you, and fly into your heart with the rain. Will you hear that the voice of flowers has turned into poetry and sang like a song?
The mountains are foggy, the water is foggy, the feelings are lingering, and the dreams are lingering. Look at the depths of the clouds, your canoe is coming slowly, with a gentle smile and a clear figure like yesterday. On this shore, a wisp of tenderness is like water!
Misty rain, misty rain, gently glides through my heart, and romance quietly blooms. ...
Chapter 4: Outside the window, it is misty and rainy.
Summer rain is long, and autumn is in my heart.
In a long summer rainy afternoon, a person habitually turns on the computer, and there is no internet; Turn on the TV, there is no program I like, and suddenly I feel very bored. Curled up on the sofa in a daze. I really want to talk to someone. I rummaged through the phone book again and again, only to find that I didn't know who to call and who to call. Outside the window, the sound of falling rain is even more lonely, which makes this wet mood even more lonely.
Seeing a swallow flying in the rain through the glass window, I have an impulse to get wet, but I can't help but be timid when I think of those suspicious or questioning or curious eyes behind me. In fact, why have you been drenched for so many years? Just looking back, I found that many years have passed, and although I haven't stopped for a day, I still haven't gone far in the same place. The years have already mottled the face of youth. Looking back, I only let rain and tears creep out of my eyes again and again.
I grabbed the bottle of red wine on the wine bar and just wanted to get drunk, but I remembered my daughter's clear eyes like a lake and my lover's gaze, and finally I only took a sip slowly. How can you get drunk when you are over 30, old and young, and have a home and a house?
How many times in my life can I cry if I want to, smile happily, and sing if I want to? How many days can you really live a meaningful life for yourself? How many people can live up to high ideals and high ideas?
The past is long and the years are heavy.
For more than ten years, former classmates have been at the crossroads of life, going their separate ways and fighting for their own lives. For more than ten years, in a blink of an eye, they have been dragging their children or getting married or achieving something. We know that the affection of classmates is so precious and unparalleled.
So, in the past year, some old classmates who have been separated for more than ten years have met or contacted by phone. The reunion of classmates seems to be the same as meeting again, and it is full of nostalgia and nostalgia for the past years.
For more than ten years, some people have gone far, and some people have never left; Some people have been fighting for their ideals, while others are just running around the clock to make a living. Some people live a wonderful life, while others live a little lonely. Think about it, people who used to go to the same school, eat the same pot of porridge and start the same line are different now, and there is always a different taste.
But seeing you again now, as always, is very gratifying, and I can't help but sigh the innocence and preciousness of my classmates. Time always runs too fast. Ten years have passed so quickly. At one time, our hazy girls and reckless teenagers were turning into semi-old Xu Niang and "teenagers". It can be found that those good times, those people and those things, those years, are still fresh in front of each other and have never gone far. Raise a glass to meet, the road ahead is long, everyone help and move forward together!
"In the future, everyone will go together with the help of others." At this moment, in this lonely moment, I think of these words. People, in this life, how much such beauty can they miss? How much can you remember such innocence? How many such true feelings can you forget?
Today, a dream broke two wings.
Born and raised in the mountains. So when I was a child, I especially liked the birds and flowers in the mountains. The songs of birds enrich my young mind, and the wings of birds carry many dreams. Listening to the birds sing, I sing along; Watching birds spread their wings and fly, I also hope I can grow a pair of flying wings to take me over mountains, rivers, hopes and dreams.
However, the road to growth is somewhat difficult, and fate always seems to be confusing. Stumbling all the way through 34 spring and autumn years, the years have mottled the face of youth, and I am still struggling on the edge of life. Young dreams run aground, but the hand that can write beautifully makes a living with pots and pans all day. A person with a strong desire and a sense of freedom can only live for the sake of living, and his heart has long been a wasteland. I often think of Haizi lying on the tracks. More than once, I dreamed of Haizi's Facing the Sea, Spring Blooms.
I am tired of leaning forward and looking at the other side of spring. Looking back, I found countless people behind me walking with me or watching me. This shore, this shore also has this shore scenery. Everything comes from desire, which can make people move forward or push people to the abyss.
Seeing a bunch of golden flowers swaying in the vast desert on TV, my heart is shaking. I began to have the idea of going for a walk in the desert. To experience the vastness and desolation of the desert, to experience the greatness and tenacity of those who live in the vast desert. Think about the tenacity and sacredness of all things in the desolate desert. I have always lived between green mountains and green waters. Is there any reason to expect more?
One day after dinner, I took my daughter for a walk. On the wide street, the breeze blows our dresses, and a group of swallows hover in the sky in the sunset. My daughter stared at the free-flying swallow for a long time, and then asked me, "Mom, what if you have wings like swallows?"
"Then I will fly in the sky like a swallow!" I answered excitedly without hesitation.
"Wrong. Mom, you should go to the hospital! "
My daughter's words stunned me.
From then on, as long as you have those ethereal dreams, your daughter's words will echo in your ears.
The glass on the table is empty. Outside the window, it is still drizzling. ...
Long summer rains in autumn, and the past years are thick. Today, a dream has broken its wings, and a glass of wine determines success or failure.
Chapter 5: March in the south of the Yangtze River is misty and rainy.
Just entering March, although the spring is chilly, there are a few strands of spring on the green branches. In a blink of an eye, winter goes and spring comes, the ice and snow melt, and everything competes. Although the temperature is warm and cold at first, it still can't stop people from being softened by the spring breeze and wanting to go out.
"If you have nothing to do, you will know the east wind, and it will always be spring." Shili, the promenade along the Cao 'e River is full of green willows fluttering in the wind, graceful; The breeze is blowing gently and the leaves are fluttering. Spring has finally arrived, and the picturesque south of the Yangtze River is full of spring breeze, with birds singing and laughing, pink and green, and colorful.
In March, spring blossoms, the south of the Yangtze River is drizzling, the roadside is green, the mountains are green and the rivers are misty. Green mountains and green waters, drizzling, the mountains in the rain are like veils, like dreams. The rain is raining, the wind is fluttering, the sky is hazy and the ground is hazy. "Spring comes in March, and there are many towers in the rain."
Perhaps I grew up in Jiangnan and got used to the humid climate in the south. Shangyu, a riverside city, is especially beautiful in the rain. The air is filled with a faint scent, just like an elegant and clear ink painting. This season is beautiful. The lingering rain and fog have blurred my eyes and there are many touching and romantic stories in my heart.
March is misty and rainy, a wet season. Flying in Jiangnan, falling in my heart. A wardrobe, a few idle books; I'm tired of crouching under the covers. The rain in the middle of the night drifted into the window and the quiet room, beating my sweet dreams and stirring my thoughts.
The rain outside the window left a mark on the glass. I listened, feeling the "tick" of the rain in the dark, "sneaking into the night with the wind, moistening things silently." Listening to the rain in March, there is always a different taste in my heart. Wandering thoughts turn into smoke and spread in the swirling rain.
The smell of early spring is shrouded in this misty rain. The drizzle in early spring seeps into the earth intermittently, just like the dew of the soul, nourishing the soul bit by bit. I, on the other hand, seem to be out of the hustle and bustle of the world and in the paradise of nature, vaguely, seemingly detached from things, forgetting those so-called troubles and putting aside those so-called right and wrong.
At the moment, my heart is quiet!
"Peach blossoms fall in March, and spring fascinates me." The light rain in March, falling in the vast world, wet and green a tree and a leaf, sprouting new vitality in the loneliness of winter; This dense rain, in a continuous way, calmed the restless heart, and it was rare to be quiet after unloading the usual fatigue.
In this slightly cold mountain, a cup of fragrant tea on the table, lingering fragrance, gradually blurred my eyes. Hold it gently in your hand, and the warmth in your hand is a little bit. Take a sip and it will seep into your heart. I feel an indescribable comfort slowly coming to my heart and my heart will soften. ...
I gently listen to my favorite music, such as mountains and streams, quiet and cheerful; Reading a good article, such as holding green tea in your hand, is fragrant; Taste the wonderful life, such as drinking sweet spring, refreshing.
March day, spring is strong; The rain in March is like a dream, a song, a poem and a picture. Spring in the south of the Yangtze River is always so affectionate, misty and rainy, and the rain lane lightly holds an oil-paper umbrella, which makes many affectionate people intoxicated and disappointed.
The peach blossom outside the window blushed, the rain outside the window continued to fall underground, a slight breeze passed by, the peach petal rain, the drunken spring breeze, and the smile was written on the face, as if it had blossomed, and it was drunk and intoxicated outside the cloud nine. ...