Fine rain, oblique wind,-cloudy-cloudy clouds, gloomy heart, eager for sunny days.
In the open space downstairs, the masters dug many tree pits before it rained, and each pit was filled with water by spring rain. When I came back at noon, some flower trees were standing in the rain, eagerly enjoying the spring rain. The flower tree's face is full of crystal green, and it seems to be holding back its strength to grow.
I don't know when the grass on the roadside sticks out its green head, but after disappearing overnight, it has grown a lot, struggling hard in this spring rain, as if to get rid of the fatigue caused by the pressure of a winter. The yellow leaves gradually covered with green *, the chill faded a little, and the warmth gradually came.
Qingming is busy planting wheat, and Grain Rain is busy farming. Although my body is cold, I feel that this is a timely rain, so that the earth can drink enough and drink thoroughly. Then it will clear up, get up to keep warm, let farmers sow in time, and watch the green seedlings stick out and grow hard.
Small raindrops are in the puddle, and the small circles splashed are dizzy one after another. There is no way to ripple, squeeze together and continue. The silky rain still fills the whole sky. Walking in the rain, my face is wet and my eyes are misty. Standing upstairs and looking out, all kinds of umbrellas on the road are spinning in the breeze and drizzle. I don't know what the people under the umbrella are like and what they are worried about, but they are all running around. The thought of this man is like the weather. After winter, it is summer. After that, you have to do this. However, in this spring rain, people seem to have accumulated enough strength, as if brewing a new beginning.
Spring rain is coming, the day of flowering is coming, the day of catkins flying is coming, and the voice of swallows whispering is coming. ...
The dusty sky is like a desert, endless and endless. The road of life is rugged, with countless cloudy days, countless rainstorms and countless nights without stars. The impact of this rainstorm shocked people's hearts.
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The hot air seemed to separate me from the air, and the wind roared and roared, mixed with dust, destroying everything it could touch in the world. I stepped up my steps and trudged forward with an empty bucket in my hand. My eyes were blown by dust, and my hair was messy and helpless in the wind.
I finally got to the water collector, but there were two people in front, who had to queue up, but at this time, the raindrops as big as beans began to hit the ground sporadically. Soon, the ground was wet, but I complained that I didn't come earlier. Finally, it was my turn. I quickly turned on the machine and began to receive water.
Water has begun to fill the bucket. After confirming that I would not emerge from the water, I habitually looked around and found the figure swaying in the wind.
It should be an old man among the flowers, leaning on crutches, with gray and fluffy hair blowing to the back of his head. On his high forehead, the traces of years are clearly visible. He walks slowly on the beach, but his pace shows that he is also in a hurry, but he can't walk fast.
So he bent down and walked with all his strength, but his bent legs rusted like scissors, and the wind and rain invaded his thin clothes. He couldn't say anything, but mustered up all his strength and struggled to finish the task of going home alone. Because people can go home for shelter from the rain, the empty streets look empty and lifeless.
Looking at it, my nose is sore, not because of the sandstorm, but because I feel sad. It doesn't matter what kind of twists and turns people have in their lives and what kind of setbacks they can endure. However, when we bloom the fireworks of our own lives, when all we have left is the unremarkable black residue, and the family we want most is not coming for a long time, it is not a torture, it is not a torment!
After watching the old man leave, the rain became heavier, his clothes were soaked and his glasses were stained. The sultry airflow has been driven away by the cold rain, and I suddenly feel that since family is so important, why not cherish every second of my life? Why wait until you are old to lament?
Time is running water, which brings the drops of life into the sea and never returns. Thinking about it, I went home and looked at my mother who worked hard to clean up the house. I suddenly felt that I should do something, and never let my mother go home alone like that grandfather. Years, you are heartless, but I will cherish it, because human beings are sentient creatures.
Spring Rain Lyric Prose 3 There is a cumulonimbus cloud floating in the sky in April. Yun Xuan opened the deep memory and shook off the bright and light raindrops. The drizzle parted the hazy night, followed the fine footsteps, and quietly hung a curtain of mist on the window sill of the season.
Whispering softly, knocking on the silent heart, brewing the twists and turns of the soul into a dream. The continuous patter came slowly from a quiet place, singing the rhythm of rain over and over again.
Thin and dense raindrops, with a faint freshness, hold up an umbrella of exquisite poetry, overflowing the tenderness of April, penetrating the silence like water, and coming leisurely. For example, a thin coat wins snow, a woman with plain clothes and a clear face comes from a misty rain picture book in the south of the Yangtze River.
I always like rainy days, like the air is full of warmth and humidity, like stepping on thin rain and walking into shallow old things. The sound of rain at night knocks on the lightly veiled window. In the scattered sound of rain, many memories about rainy days are easily searched out, such as yellowed photos, lying quietly and gently in the depths of the page, arousing many whispers. Pick a wisp of breeze and gently shake off flying thoughts. The paper danced with the raindrops.
Listening attentively to the first light rain on this spring night, a heart seems to have been washed ethereal and pure. In the faint orange of the desk lamp, holding a cup of tea, letting raindrops drift with thoughts, and listening to the spring rain all night in the small building is quite meaningful. I just don't know where the window of dawn rises and how many flowers will fall tomorrow morning. Can there be apricot flowers in the deep lane?
Stay in the depths of the ancient rhyme of poetry, let a wisp of ink penetrate the rain curtain and wander around the temples. The dreamlike sound of the piano, turning thousands of times, holding the breeze at the end of the sleeves, singing gently and touching tactfully.
The 40,000 raindrops in the lyrical prose of Spring Rain washed away the lead, passed through the dust, held out a faint fragrance, shook off the flowery smile, and the breeze held out gentle and honest paper. Misty rain, full of paper ink and wash, opens a Tao Di in vivid memory, and tender feelings emanate from the lips and teeth.
How many misty rains, walking hand in hand, Ren Qingyu drifted quietly, perched on the hair tips, eyebrows and shoulders, and a wet heart was like a butterfly. Cool raindrops are wrapped around the fingertips, like the wings of a butterfly, rippling in my heart. Walking in misty rain and sunset together, feeling each other's temperature, just like holding hands full of happiness.
How many fresh and quiet rainy nights, the long-lost melody is gently opened, the music is filled, and the flood-like thoughts move lightly in the knocking of the eaves rain. The thick thoughts floating outside the window, in the damp darkness, seem to whisper old dreams. In a trance, your bright and handsome smile is like a ray of warm light, spreading through the night fog, walking in the rain at an intimate temperature, and the love in the bottom of my heart is quietly sprouting. ...
How many times in the rain dancing on the Qingshiqiao, watching the dusty railings wash out the true blue and white of life. When all the shells are peeled off, flawless purity reveals bright colors that are eye-catching and heart-washing, or light-year tides shine on smooth or uneven foreheads. Pearl-like raindrops fell, the slightly overflowing lake fainted on the water surface, and the sound of fish was melodious.
How many times in the small forest full of peach blossoms, I quietly watched the fragrant dew slowly dripping on the branches, broken and tender, light green in the clear rain curtain, which was a magnificent light dream. In rainy April, the lilacs under the umbrella, wearing dark sleeves, hold a purple butterfly that missed the season, and are graceful.
This kind of night rain blooms like April flowers, filled with thousands of fragrant flowers and words, knocking on the half-closed window. Rain falls gently, a wisp of orchid. It is a cloud, dissipated in the moment of looking back, as if it had passed and seemed to be in front of us. Perhaps, only the green hills washed by rain, in silence, focus on this feeling of if there is no, and gradually fade away in that faint sadness. Just leave a drop of dew at the bottom of the leaf, and when the sun rises in the morning, it quietly reflects last night's dream.
It rains at night in the secluded window, leaving a light mark, lingering in the past and leaving a fragrance.
In the dream, the purple butterfly lingers shallowly, and the wind dances and the shadows are clear. ...
I still like the window, like the carefree world outside the window.
So I looked out of the window and merged into the world. However, it seems that I came late and hastily. Did the long rain last night drift in loneliness? Light rain sounds like sacred music that baptizes people's hearts and blows away the glitz in the world.
Is there anything perfect and beautiful? I can smell the faint fragrance of tea since ancient times. Its heartbeat is the rhythm of life, full of rites and music in the Western Zhou Dynasty, "clothes" in the Tang Dynasty and Ci Fu in the Song Dynasty. Its storage is the dragon that devours and breathes China, and it is expanding to Christianity in Western Europe and samba in South America.
Its life is nourished like this rain, perhaps it is this rain. I heard broken and lively footsteps and clever dance steps. Spring came like this, quietly, when it was still slightly cold.
Or it rained for a long time, and the slight cold air froze some raindrops and turned them into pear flowers. Light snow dances with the April wind, and silent snow is hidden in the soil, not in the stream.
Of course, there are still some raindrops that walk through the snowflakes like embroidery needles, or pierce the earth to embroider a pair of "spring in the garden". The gentle wind blows up a fresh earthy smell, mixed with floral fragrance and rosin and sneaks into the nostrils, accompanied by the blooming of flowers, the germination of grass and the germination of branches. Squeeze into the brain and stir the heart and spleen.
Everything is quiet. Quiet enough to hear the sound of willows sprouting, the sound of grass breaking ground, and the music of snowflakes dancing. The noisy world is immersed in this rare comfort, enjoying the beauty that nature never lacks but is decreasing. People who are tired of life are also enjoying and appreciating quietly, probably cherishing the beauty that they rarely know how to cherish!
No matter where you are, you can see this beauty as long as you open your eyes. It is either vast and primitive, handsome and beautiful, or desolate and tragic. This beauty is a natural painting. Life is her painter and audience. But as an audience, we will inevitably scribble, so she got angry, and the tsunami and hurricane followed, but after all, she was tolerant and indulgent, and loved us as obedient parents in China today.
Fortunately, the audience here is quiet, so I can worship her paintings. Catkin-like snowflakes are spinning in the air. The thin white background is lined with a few sparse pink, which is the face of peach blossom. She smiled at the snow-covered hills, the green leaves on the hills, the melted snow water on the green leaves, the pedestrians reflected in the water drops, and the simple and mixed colors.
Cang Shu is green with white flowers. I don't know how many places in the world are so beautiful. Maybe there is. I just hope it's not just sadness.
Be quiet! Time seems to flow slowly, but the sun is still shining, and the birds wake me up. Ha ha! I couldn't help laughing. There was such a thing. What is this? I can't answer that. I only know that it has Su Wu's backbone and Yu Qian's arm. Maybe Einstein's wisdom is just us! A us who is still sleeping!
Outside the window are willows blowing in the breeze, surging for a distant and unformed future under the calm of soft white clouds.
Take another look! Maybe that's all I can do, but I hope there will be a rain in people's hearts, which will turn the haze into dew and wash away the dust of the soul. A clean heart will bloom a beautiful rainbow like the world after rain.
The 60,000 raindrops in the lyrical prose of Spring Rain washed away the lead, passed through the dust, held out a faint fragrance, shook off the flowery smile, and the breeze held out the gentleness of the paper. A misty rain, full of paper and ink, opens a Tao Di in a fresh and lotus-like memory, and tender feelings emanate from the lips and teeth.
How many misty rains, hand in hand, Ren Qingyu drifted quietly, perched on her hair and brow, landed on her shoulders, and danced like a wet heart like a butterfly. Cool raindrops are wrapped around the fingertips, like the wings of a butterfly, rippling in my heart. Walking in misty rain and sunset together, feeling each other's temperature, just like holding hands full of happiness.
How many fresh and quiet rainy nights, the long-lost melody is gently opened, the music is filled, and the flood-like thoughts are gently swaying in the knocking of the rain. The thick thoughts floating outside the window, in the damp darkness, seem to whisper old dreams. In a trance, your bright and handsome smile is like a ray of warm light, spreading through the night fog, walking in the rain at an intimate temperature, and the love in the bottom of my heart is quietly sprouting. ...
How many times in the rain dancing on the Qingshiqiao, watching the dusty railings wash out the true blue and white of life. When all the shells are peeled off, flawless purity reveals bright colors that are eye-catching and heart-washing, or light-year tides shine on smooth or uneven foreheads. Pearl-like raindrops fell, the slightly overflowing lake fainted on the water surface, and the sound of fish was melodious.
How many times in the small forest full of peach blossoms, I quietly watched the fragrant dew slowly drop on the branches, and a touch of broken powder became soft, and light green became a magnificent light dream in the clear rain curtain. In rainy April, the lilacs under the umbrella, wearing dark sleeves, hold a purple butterfly that missed the season, and are graceful.
This kind of night rain blooms like April flowers, filled with thousands of fragrant flowers and words, knocking on the half-closed window. Rain falls gently, a wisp of orchid. It is a cloud, dissipated in the moment of looking back, as if it had passed and seemed to be in front of us. Perhaps, only the green hills washed by rain, in silence, focus on this feeling of if there is no, and gradually fade away in that faint sadness. Just leave a drop of dew at the bottom of the leaf, and when the sun rises in the morning, it quietly reflects last night's dream.
It rains at night in the secluded window, leaving a light mark, lingering in the past and leaving a fragrance.
In the dream, the purple butterfly lingers shallowly, and the wind dances and the shadows are clear. ...
Spring Rain Lyric Prose 7 is accompanied by the blooming of street wildflowers, and the cold breath is far away, representing the arrival of spring. After a long separation, the spring rain is falling, nourishing the hibernating earth. Everything is revived, full of blue eyes. As if heralding a good start. In April, a brand-new season, I took off my heavy cotton-padded coat and put on a light coat. It seems that a year of depression has been forgotten.
Old trees on both sides of streets and roads are sprouting new branches, peach blossoms are welcoming the spring breeze, and grass is eager for water. Even pedestrians have increased. Men, women and children are laughing and playing, and they are happy every day without any troubles. A variety of snacks followed, barbecue, stalls, street snacks, the most representative of the unique characteristics of the North. Here, there is no distinction between men and women, and there is no distinction between rich and poor. Three or five friends, a few bottles of beer, a plate of kebabs, telling each other's friendship, sharing happy things every day, or talking about childhood anecdotes, hahaha smiled and had a glass of cold beer. After several rounds, they went home, lay in bed and fell asleep sweetly. Waiting for a new day. The happiest thing in the world is this.
The spring rain has passed and washed away the world. It's not as boring as summer to drive away the cold in winter. Combined with the good mood again on a few minutes. 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. Perhaps Mr. Han wants to express not only the rainy scenery in spring, but also people's happy mood in spring, or a feeling of life.
Spring Rain Lyric Prose 8 Ancient people often used poems to mourn autumn and hurt spring. Spring does have its wounds, but there is no lack of ethereal beauty.
Spring in the north is short and boring, but flashy is not real. Everything has not yet woken up from the cold winter, and only a few shades of green count as the arrival of spring in the north. Northerners often say, "The neck is short in spring." I haven't seen many new places, and spring has slipped away quietly, leaving only the wind, which is biting and occasionally dazzling.
In contrast, the spring in the south brings more affection, and the misty spring rain alone adds a little beauty to this spring in the south.
As a southerner born and raised near Jiangsu and Zhejiang, I think I have enjoyed the spring rain in the south. No hurry, no delay, no redundancy, no noise. The rain was a little cool, but just right. How can you not take advantage of this lazy weather to be extravagant?
Spring in the south always comes without a trace. It was snowing a few days ago, and several spring rains inadvertently replaced white, still intertwined in the air, which is the official arrival of southern spring.
Once the rainy season in Meng Chun falls, it is not so easy to "stop", and wet weather lasting for three to five days is also common. Walking in the forest, soaking in the rain, wandering between heaven and earth, feeling the will of spring.
Although the heavy rain prevented people from walking, she was not alone. In addition to the swaying branches and tender willows in the misty rain, there is also the occasional crisp thunder that makes the baby cry. The old man at home once said that when the first spring thunder of the New Year rings, if you are still sleeping, don't forget to turn over and stay healthy for a whole year. I know there is no scientific basis, but I am used to listening to adults' whispers. In this spring rain season, when the spring thunder first rings, I always like to turn over several times.
The sky just entering spring is a paradise for birds. Even in the drizzle, there is no lack of ink, which is the trace of the sparrow's startled branches. Birds are always the first to perceive the meaning of spring, which may be a message from the north! Birds form a formation and move in parallel in an orderly way on the rain scene in early spring. Occasionally one or two people are alone, and there are always friends waiting. Such a sharp contrast between cold and warm makes people injured in spring deeply moved.
Spring rain always walks briskly, like a handsome new wife. When she looked back shyly in the crowd, she soon disappeared. This kind of seclusion has not really disappeared, and it can only be counted as a nap and nap at most. The spring rain is falling, urging those unknown flowers and plants to get drunk-earlier, they were depressed. After touching the spring rain several times, they surrounded the ground with gorgeous flowers, pursed their lovely red lips and kissed the cheeks of Chunguang, guessing that behind the gorgeous flowers, they should be in full bloom!
The grass is green and the kite flies with the warbler. Everything is like the horn of youth at the beginning of this year. Gradually, gradually, silence condenses into the most glittering tears of the year, and quietly falls in this cold and warm season.
Year after year. Spring goes and spring comes. How can people not understand the meaning of this rain and dew?
It's raining outside the window. A spring rain came too late. The withered branches of trees are faintly covered with a hazy green spring dress. The drizzle is mixed with the spring breeze, and the moist and fresh breath smells of earth and grass. I sucked greedily, as if I had returned to the embrace of Mother Earth, and I felt a kind of beauty wrapped around my whole body.
I like the rain in the spring morning, which is fresh and cool, but not as bitter as the cold in the deep winter. A drizzly spring rain makes the mountains green and everything picturesque, making my heart empty, clear and carefree at this moment. This is the fate of Su Qun! I seem to be on a vibrant green carpet, watching the golden winter jasmine small and lovely.
Zhu Ziqing's spring is joyful, full of laughter and whispers. For me, I also like this spring. I was born in spring, so I have special feelings for spring. Just like this spring rain, although it fell in the city, I seem to feel that it also fell in the countryside of my hometown and infiltrated my heart.
Its tenderness and charm, dancing with the wind, floated to the place where peach blossoms were in full bloom, moistened the dry land that had been lonely for a winter, lit up the symbol of life, and gave me a dream-like emotion, which made me feel the peaceful mind and the vast countryside at this beautiful moment, and made a best dream in the sound of the wind blowing.
Spring is gentle and bright, spring rain is crisp and moist, with the fragrance of flowers, playing the ticking sound, brushing away the floating dust and rustling. In this quiet and fragrant morning, I like this moment from my fingertips to my heart. A grass, a small flower and a birdsong are all an attachment and a watch in my heart.
Spring scenery outside the window is sultry. I looked at the willow dancing in the drizzle, and I was shocked. I wanted to be a spring leaf, hanging in the air at the moment before falling into the soil. Next year, when the spring rain is full, I can decorate the romantic atmosphere of this spring city in the spring breeze. Fine and soft rain wet my face, as if it had rubbed into my skin, which made me more affectionate and infatuated with this March spring.
Chun Lv, gives people an ethereal spring rain, which falls on my face and in front of the window. I stretched out my hands and a touch of new green bloomed in my palm, which really gave people a kind of comfort and comfort. The small leaves on the branches record the appearance of spring, which is familiar. In this season, cool colors are fresh and pleasant.
I treasured a winter silence, and at this moment I showed a sweet smile. Yes, I gave my tired mood to this long-lost spring rain, telling the expectation buried deep in my heart. So, I have a landscape, a heavy dream and hope, a stream of people in my hometown, a wisp of kitchen smoke in my hometown and a tree in my hometown. At this moment, I feel moved again, not lost.
I am glad that I am still young, and I still have time and energy to walk in the rain, feel the softness of the spring rain and enjoy the most beautiful scenery and time. In March, in this mild season, I pray for spring rain. Throughout the ages, countless literati have a special liking for "spring rain", and they like Han Yu's "The rain in the sky is moist as crisp, but the grass nearby is not". Fine light rain, looking at the grass color through the rain, adds a layer of hazy beauty to the grass color in early spring. Light rain moistens like crisp, which makes people naturally feel comfortable and comfortable.
Spring water boils, peaches and willows sprout, and it rains. In this flower-like season, the breeze drives the water and the pear blossoms are cool. I like walking slowly in the bamboo forest in the spring rain, listening to the melodious sound, smelling the faint fragrance, watching the new green bloom in the song, and the years are gentle.
Lyric Prose of Spring Rain 10 The light rain outside the window reveals softly, which sounds like the exhortation of love. This spring rain! It is always different from the past, as if she also understood that when new plants wake up, they are in the early spring of ignorance, which is the protection of the bud.
The spring rain is intermittent and continuous ... I think this must be the reason why everything is spiritual! Anyone who has love in his heart naturally has control over the people and things around him, which depends on the "degree". We can't vent our anger at will according to our emotions, let alone drown ourselves in her own achievements in the name of love.
The most difficult thing for us to control in life is that on the balance of life, it is always uncomfortable from left to right, so there will be more or less confusion and doubt when it is too biased. In the conflict and regret when the fault occurs, intangible and spiritual torture, torture again and again.
You see, the four seasons can cycle, and the ups and downs of life can still turn. Sometimes, from a good situation, we unconsciously fall into a quagmire. When you calmly organize your thoughts, you will continue to create a better tomorrow.
Just like the ups and downs in these four seasons, sometimes it rises and falls with the wind, constantly flying, and sometimes it is chased by fine snow, even if it is scratched, it is also strongly beating the fiery feelings corresponding to the soul. Only by combining rigidity with softness, just right, can you have a tiger in your heart and smell the roses, and you can meet the storms in life independently when you are an adult. As long as we don't give up on ourselves, we can survive.
No matter how cold it is in winter, as long as spring comes, it will come naturally. When everything is warming up, it is the most precious symbol of every part of life to look at those experiences in wind, frost, rain and snow.
After winter, I always look forward to the return of spring. The implication under the thick snow cover is in the process of waiting silently and fully preparing. We need the sunshine in spring and the drizzle in spring. You can't really be nourished by the sunshine in your life. Only gentle washing from time to time can make you feel moist and feel satisfied after harvest.
Good rain knows the season, when spring comes. Rain knows when it should rain, so it silently waters all the plants that have just poked their heads out. I seem to see the tenderness like a mother, so that every newborn child can feel the investment in the rain and dew, and all creatures are watching with eager eyes. Under your care, every inch of skin on the earth is moistened by gentle nectar.
Things grow in the wind and rain, and flowers bloom in the sun. Love overflows when it is full, but it hurts when it is empty. Love comes through wind and rain, and the sun shines among the flowers. See the rainbow after the storm, at this time, the sound and silence have been understood.