This is a love poem that doesn't look like a love poem at first reading. Poetry and painting are as blurred as misty rain, and poetry is also very hazy. Although this poem has only seven sentences, it is unforgettable. After the rain, at dusk, you can see the distant green hills outside the window. "From here, you can find out the depth of the distant mountains." Detection, with the eyes, but also with the heart. It's just that the distant mountains are not so charming. It is people who live in the depths of distant mountains that keep me from dreaming for a long time. The poet can't help being naive. "Breathe into the window and draw a long path with your fingers." This is a virtual reality, and it is even more real: "I" finally couldn't restrain my strong yearning and walked out of the window, watching "a figure at the end of the path"-"my sweetheart" set foot on the "long road" outside the window and went into the mountains in the rain to pursue it.
There is another explanation for this poem: the man has "walked out of the rain", leaving only "a back" at the end of the "long road". But "I" still stood under the window until dusk fell and the rain beads did not fly. Every window has a different story, but the story that happened under this window, after all, we have no way of knowing, which is a mystery that will never be solved. Obviously, no matter how you interpret it, it will not damage the charm of this poem at all. On the contrary, it is this ambiguity and uncertainty that enriches its connotation, thus giving readers a broader imagination.