Old road and small bridge, how many footprints have been washed away by rain, the face under the broken umbrella is still so charming, and how many tearful stories of looking for marriage are propped up by the broken umbrella. Spring rain broke the bridge, but the dream in my heart has never been shattered. The road under my feet is still extending, and the rain in the south of the Yangtze River is still falling again and again. ......
Walking slowly on the small bridge running water alone, dripping with spring rain, sailing in the green willows, quietly blowing in the blue waves, talking and laughing; Spring rain, travel in the humid wind and clear fog, quietly passing in the sharp boat, the boat is graceful, the peach is beautiful, the drizzle is raining and swaying. It's so vivid and touching.
Rain dripped down the eaves covered with green barns for thousands of years, telling the vicissitudes of thousands of years. The green slate under the eaves is scarred and engraved with immortal marks. Bananas outside the window are always so monotonous, full of rustling, as if there is endless sadness, which makes people feel inexplicably depressed. I like the feeling of rain. It is so quiet between heaven and earth, only the rustling of rain, as if you can hear the happy whispers of flowers. The rain fell in the air, my thoughts melted into the rain, floated in the wilderness of distant mountains, floated on the branches of trees, and merged into a trickle, which merged into a long river of thoughts, so there were thousands of ripples in the river and flowers in the water.
Xidi Ancient Town, Rainy Lane, under an oiled paper umbrella, girls in the south of the Yangtze River are graceful, riding a wisp of spring breeze, quietly coming from the clouds and stepping slowly. Since ancient times, it has been rainy in Jiangnan, and the spring rain in Jiangnan is as expensive as oil. Let the wind and rain beat outside, sit in a quiet bedroom at night and listen to the spring rain falling slowly outside the window, ticking.
The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River is poetic, the wind is light and the rain is oblique, and the clouds are steaming and foggy; The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River is intertwined with old dreams.
Xidi Town, a rainy lane and a slate, looks like a naughty, lively and cheerful Jiangnan ink painter, and for a while, it's raining and I don't know the true face of Lushan Mountain. After a while, it rained cats and dogs, and it was fierce and emotional; A moment is calm, a moment is silent, a moment is covered with dark clouds, a moment is raining cats and dogs, a moment is ticking, like a song, leaving, the sunrise is rainbow, the colors are bright, and there is love in the south of the Yangtze River.
Rain in the south of the Yangtze River, affectionate rain, drizzle and wet clothes are invisible, so as to moisten things quietly; The rain in the south of the Yangtze River, the rain of missing, the feet of the rain are like hemp, and it doesn't move until dawn.
Xidi Ancient Town, a rainy lane, is like a girl with strong character, full of enthusiasm, full of enthusiasm, bringing people warm high temperature, full of enthusiasm, and the crops in abel tamata are dripping with drizzle to quench their thirst. She is always in hot, sultry and sultry weather, with a thrilling gust of wind, flying sand and stones, branches and leaves dancing in the forest, the world is shrouded in a magnificent and dignified brown darkness, and the raindrops of watercress fall in the air, incisively and vividly, and pour down with the rain. Between heaven and earth, there was a roar in an instant, and the buildings on the roof, old streets, green mountains and green waters all soared in the white fog. A series of dazzling lightning shone brightly in the world, and the instant thunderbolt shook the earth, which was deafening Half an hour later, the air was moist, the dark clouds dispersed, the blue sky was exposed again, and the green leaves and branches were swaying with crystal drops of water. The sun is shining, and the mountains and rivers are washed once, which is more beautiful.
Spring rain falls, hazy, continuous, romantic, just like a girl's love; The rain in the south of the Yangtze River moistens everything, bit by bit, endless, just like the love of a girl.
The ancient town, a rainy lane, is like a sentimental and charming young woman in the south of the Yangtze River. Autumn rain is cool for a while, and autumn rain is cool for a while. At first, a slight westerly wind overturned the curtains of the west window. Slowly, the westerly wind became stronger and stronger, blowing away the pale blue curtains like flags, urging you to close the windows and roll them up. At this moment, you can hear the window bang. Gradually, the raindrops became more and more dense and longer. In Yuan Ye, there are bursts of rain, like songs. At this time, you seem to hear the rain lane in the south of the Yangtze River pour out slowly, and you can't help but sigh, a young woman in the south of the Yangtze River who is tender and infinitely disappointed! The sound of drizzle accompanied people to sleep gradually.
The rain in the south of the Yangtze River is overwhelming and dense, such as silk and yarn, and it rains gently and obliquely.
The ancient town, a rainy lane, looks like a girl from the south of the Yangtze River, as clean as ice, as cold as a knife and as cold as a bone. When Jiang Nanyu was wrapped in snow seeds, knocking on the old street tiles and the panes of the old house, just like a girl tapping the lute in the south of the Yangtze River, the wonderful tinkling sound slowly flowed out from her fingers, and the clear spring gurgled and the water tinkled, patting vilen, the houses and the temple towers in the south of the Yangtze River.
Standing in front of the window, the wind in the south of the Yangtze River can't get back my rambling thoughts, just like the misty rain outside the window, which is endless and endless. Your tenderness and your words fall in my heart again and again like drizzle. I can't forget that we walked in the rain with umbrellas, and the rain soaked half of your body; I can't forget that the mud splashed when I walked stained your flowered skirt; I can't forget your slip, the difference in the rain and the promise in the rain.
In the ancient town, the rain lane, "the rain in the old place" knocked on the glass window of the old house, just like my silent tears, looking at the falling rain, I suddenly realized that things are different, people come and go, and there is no boat that stops forever. Who will wait for who? Maybe I'm just a passer-by in your life. There is rain in other places, and there is love in other places. As long as there is love in the heart, where is not home?
Fog and rain are woven into a dense net, memories of the past are written into a letter, and thoughts of the present are caught in the net. The oil-paper umbrella still fell off and disappeared in the rain lane. ......