First, the spring rain is continuous.
It's raining hard, and I want to go home. Fog is a mirage in my hometown, covering many green hills. The endless yearning for love is about to bury me. The green plantain is like a loyal footman, and it will be more radiant in the rain. I have cooled my enthusiasm on the wings of wild geese swimming in the air.
Frogs are ready to perform, and there will be sun-like guests on the ridge at dusk. It's raining hard, and I want to go home. Liveliness is a satire on loneliness, surrounded by wandering luggage. People who keep coming and going will swallow me up Straight pine trees, like competent guards in the fields, stretch out their branches to stop strange tourists. I can only see my old little house through the silver-gray starlight forest in Leng Yue.
Grandparents have been waiting at the dinner table for a long time. Today, the little grandson comes home from school. It's raining hard, and I want to go home. The illusory thoughts are finally clearly in front of us. The sky dries the tears and emits golden light from the clouds.
Second, the spring rain
The spring rain is like a silk thread. Smell the sound of green leaves outside the window. They are singing. Or are raindrops lamenting, lamenting what? Sigh that deep feeling, but I can't reach the side where you are, and remember the back when you leave. It was also a rainy day. In the long rain lane, you didn't look back, leaving me alone, quietly letting the tears blend with the spring rain in the rain.