Continuous drizzle, continuous drizzle
The raindrops falling in the sky form lines.
It's like a wanderer cutting off his mind.
The rain in my hometown
A clean village must be washed again.
The wheat waves rolled in the villagers' dreams.
Smoke billowed from the corner of the eaves among the green trees.
Imagine climbing to the top of my hometown.
Father is sitting on the door of the old house.
Wipe the fatigue on your forehead with the back of your hand.
Light a cigarette and squint.
The rain kept dripping on the eaves.
Into a cheerful stream.
Flowing to the green fields