This proverb began to form and spread at least in the Song and Yuan Dynasties. Suzhou at this time has been called a paradise on earth. Investigate its connotation, it must be beautiful scenery. The so-called warm mountains and warm water are like beautiful pavilions in famous gardens.
Suzhou is really a very beautiful ancient city in the south of the Yangtze River, and it is also the land of plenty in the south of the Yangtze River. Suzhou's ancient beauty and quiet beauty have been admired by many literati since ancient times. However, in my heart, what I will never forget is the rainy lane in Suzhou. It's really meaningful and memorable.
If it is spring in March, the hazy drizzle will turn this city into a dreamy and poetic misty and rainy town-the river is hazy and the alleys are deep; Blue tile white wall, painted door copper ring; The trees are green and the flowers are bright. The city is the mystery of the alley, and the city is a secluded place in the distant mountains. Especially the alley near the water is more amorous feelings in the rain. Those stone roads, stone roads, lead people to the ordinary, to the secular, to the distant, to the quiet and elegant. Dongpo Lane, Xishi Lane, Anbaili Lane, Haitang Lane, Guanyin Lane, Baby Lane, Eunuch Lane ... Those alleys, no matter how long; Beautiful or not; Whether famous or not, it will show an inexhaustible amorous feelings, which will also make people feel warm and elegant.
Rainy alleys are fascinating, and the spirit of this city is even more obvious: the rain drenches stones and slates, making them clean, cool and friendly. Those slender girls will hold all kinds of nylon umbrellas, dance graceful posture, and wander in the deep and tortuous alleys. Beautiful and thin silk sleeves slipped quietly with the wind and human movements, revealing white and delicate arms, which were blown by the wet wind. Suddenly, I felt a sense of pleasure in my heart, and my beautiful and feminine face rose slightly, showing an inexhaustible pride and charm.
The wind is filar silk, the rain is filar silk, and the feeling is filar silk.
In the early morning, the alley will be very quiet. In this beautiful silence, there will be a euphemistic cry of the flower girl: "Gardenia! -White orchids! -"voice echoed in the quiet alley, especially nice. So in that quiet and elegant courtyard, under the small window by the river, there will be girls or young women daydreaming: if you wear a gardenia or a white orchid on your sideburns and skirts, how wonderful it would be to see the beauty of this flower and smell its fragrance!
There are also bright roses, swaying in flower girl's flower basket, the stamens are in the sky, as if they are still on the branches, and the petals are still stained with crystal beads of rain. It sends out the fragrance of roses, floating out of the basket, into the alley, into the small stone bridge and onto the river.
At night, in that deep alley, camel shoulders selling wonton and red bean porridge along the street give this town a different flavor. Clever burden, exquisite stove and bright orange fire appeared in the alley with less bright lights, which made the alley have a soul. In the dead of night, the crisp sound of the bangzi spread in the middle of the night and in the thick rain and fog. Even in the middle of the night, the alleys become quieter, which still makes people feel that the city is still beating the melody of life peacefully.
Of course, there is Suzhou Pingtan, which is very nice. This is probably the simplest and most elegant folk art in China. It is simple from beginning to end, simple from beginning to end, elegant from beginning to end. This is a lively, crisp and euphemistic rap in Wu dialect, which gives people a proper, measured and controlled emotional flow. Sadness, anger, sadness and joy are quietly dissolved in the intermittent rain, and the melody floats gracefully in the misty rain lane at night. ...
2. "Rain Lane" was rewritten into an essay of 800 words. Thousands of drizzles like cow hair are sprinkled in the sky, bringing coolness to people in this early autumn season. Rain falls gently on my face with the breeze, like a lover's kiss, slippery, wet and comfortable.
I walked alone in the alley of this ancient town in the south of the Yangtze River with a slightly worn oil-paper umbrella, watching the stone walls mottled by thousands of years of wind and rain and greasy moss covering one third of the walls. The bluestone road on the ground is still intact, and it doesn't feel too slippery to step on.
I walked slowly, with a lonely expression, walking in this quiet alley. This alley is deep and winding. At this moment, I seem to have lost myself, as if I had crossed time and space. I became a romantic young man in a blue robe and a long bun. Surrounded by my companions, I strolled in the drizzly alley, shaking the folding fan, singing poems of talented people and beautiful women, and watching the girls passing by in a hurry with veils on the roadside.
Looking back on reality, I am still walking alone in this faint alley in the south of the Yangtze River. The weather is very cold, and there are basically no pedestrians on the road. However, isn't that what I want? At this time, a girl in a white dress came out from the corner of the alley, holding a light blue oiled paper umbrella in her hand, hitting it very low and covering her face.
From a distance, the girl walked slowly and carefully, trying to avoid the water stains on the ground, for fear that the sewage on the ground would dirty her shoes and socks, as if she were a fairy who accidentally fell into the earth and didn't want to be contaminated with the noise of the world.
I am getting closer and closer to her. I can't restrain my curiosity. I want to peek at the real content under her oil-paper umbrella. At the same time, my heart beat slowly and unwillingly. Finally, I saw her face.
That is a face that I will never forget. It's fair skin, just outlined the oval face, curved arch eyebrows, clear eyes like autumn water, small and straight nose, delicate and charming lips like just ripe peaches, which makes people feel that they have to pick it. But it is such a delicate and charming show that there is always a touch of sadness on her face. What is the girl thinking? I'm thinking, if I stare at her face, I'll pass her by.
Finally, she seemed to notice my presumptuous eyes and glanced at me casually. Looking at my dull appearance, she couldn't help laughing. This smile swept away the sadness on her face, and also let me know what is called "a smiling city" and "the powder and paint in the sixth palace have disappeared without a trace" I stood there and let her pass me, leaving only a faint fragrance floating into my nose and my heart.
I slowly turned around and looked at the girl's drifting back. I feel that my body has lost something for no reason, as if my life has lost its meaning. Two lines of tears slowly slipped down my cheeks and knocked silently on the bluestone road on the ground.
The rain is finally getting smaller and smaller.
3. The 800-word composition "Rain Lane" in high school Chinese Rain Lane
There are thousands of tiny raindrops in the sky, which bring a trace of sadness and meaning to people in this early autumn season.
I walked alone in the alley of this ancient town in the south of the Yangtze River with a slightly worn oil-paper umbrella. The surrounding stone walls have been eroded by thousands of years of wind and rain, and moss covers one-third of the walls. Qingshi Road is still intact, and it doesn't feel too slippery to step on.
I walked slowly in this quiet alley with a lonely expression. The alley is deep, winding, extremely deep, the weather is very cold, and there are basically no pedestrians on the road, but isn't this what I want?
At this time, a girl in a white dress came out from the corner of the alley, holding a light blue oiled paper umbrella in her hand, hitting it very low and covering her face. Seen from a distance, the girl walked slowly and carefully.
I am afraid that the sewage on the ground will stain her shoes and socks, and I am getting closer and closer to her. I couldn't restrain my curiosity and wanted to peek at the real content under her oil-paper umbrella. At the same time, my heart beat slowly and unwillingly. Finally, I saw her face.
That is a face that I will never forget. It's fair skin, just outlined the oval face, curved arch eyebrows, clear eyes like autumn water, small and straight nose, delicate and charming lips like a ripe peach, which makes people feel that they have to pick it. But it is such a delicate and charming show that there is always a touch of sadness on her face. What is the girl thinking? I'm thinking, if I stare at her face, I'll pass her by.
Finally, she seemed to notice my presumptuous eyes and glanced at me casually. Looking at my dull appearance, she couldn't help laughing. This smile swept away the sadness on her face, and also let me know what is called "a smiling city" and "the powder and paint in the sixth palace have disappeared without a trace" I stood there and let her pass me, leaving only a faint fragrance floating into my nose and my heart.
I slowly turned around and looked at the girl's drifting back. I feel that my body has lost something for no reason, as if my life has lost its meaning. Two lines of tears slowly slipped down my cheeks and knocked silently on the bluestone road on the ground.
It is still raining, and it seems that it will not stop. What about me? The rain in my heart has been raining.
O(∩_∩)o I hope I can help you,
O(∩_∩)o Please give a compliment or adopt it in time. Thank you very much (*^__^*)
4. Adapting Dai Wangshu's Rain Lane into an 800-word composition, holding an oil-paper umbrella (paradise umbrella) and being alone.
Wandering in the long, long
Lonely rain lane
I hope to see
Like a pine tree
A lonely boy
He has.
Pine-like color
As green as a pine tree.
Pine-like melancholy
Mourn in the rain
Sad and confused
He wandered in this lonely rain lane.
Hold an oil-paper umbrella (paradise umbrella)
Like me
Like me.
voicelessly
Cold desert, melancholy, and melancholy.
He approached quietly.
Get close and throw again.
Breathing eyes
He floated past.
well
As sad and confused as a dream.
Floating like a dream
Pine branch
I passed this man by.
He left silently, left.
A ramshackle hedge.
Walk through this rainy path
In the sad song of rain
Remove his color.
Sprinkle his green.
Disappeared, even his
Breathing eyes
Pine-like melancholy
Holding an oil-paper umbrella (paradise umbrella) alone
Wandering in the long, long
Lonely rain lane
I hope to float over.
Like a pine tree
With loneliness, you can't change it well. Laugh, laugh.
5.800-word composition on my rainy lane A Zi's feelings after reading this article, describing the love, love and lovesickness complex of young men and women. Taking the rain lane, oil-paper umbrella and beautiful girl as creative carriers, a large number of techniques such as repetition, complex sentences and duet are used to form a melody and euphemistic musical sense that is cyclic and sigh-singing. At the same time, metaphor and symbolism are used to organically combine China's classical tragic image of "the girl holding the oiled paper umbrella", the ancient and long rain lane and the girl with sadness in expectation, forming a blurred artistic conception, implicitly implying the author's confused, sad and longing mood and giving people a secluded aesthetic feeling.
Since the birth of Dai Wangshu's masterpiece Rain Lane, Rain Lane, Oil Paper Umbrella and Lilac Girl have become classic words that never stop singing, and they have also become synonymous with touching and sad experiences. The realm of this beautiful prose comes from the classics, which is the inheritance and continuation of the artistic conception of Rain Lane, but it is also innovative and expanded.
In the author's pen, the long rainy lane is full of hope and expectation, which is a lingering romantic sentiment. That kind of deep acacia, that kind of persistent watch, soaked every word.
The article focuses on the layout and rendering of things, wandering freely in reality and imagination, giving people a poetic feeling.
6. The 800-word composition "Rain Lane" in high school Chinese Rain Lane
There are thousands of tiny raindrops in the sky, which bring a trace of sadness and meaning to people in this early autumn season.
I walked alone in the alley of this ancient town in the south of the Yangtze River with a slightly worn oil-paper umbrella. The surrounding stone walls have been eroded by thousands of years of wind and rain, and moss covers one-third of the walls. Qingshi Road is still intact, and it doesn't feel too slippery to step on.
I walked slowly in this quiet alley with a lonely expression. The alley is deep, winding, extremely deep, the weather is very cold, and there are basically no pedestrians on the road, but isn't this what I want?
At this time, a girl in a white dress came out from the corner of the alley, holding a light blue oiled paper umbrella in her hand, hitting it very low and covering her face. Seen from a distance, the girl walked slowly and carefully.
I am afraid that the sewage on the ground will stain her shoes and socks, and I am getting closer and closer to her. I couldn't restrain my curiosity and wanted to peek at the real content under her oil-paper umbrella. At the same time, my heart beat slowly and unwillingly. Finally, I saw her face.
That is a face that I will never forget. It's fair skin, just outlined the oval face, curved arch eyebrows, clear eyes like autumn water, small and straight nose, delicate and charming lips like just ripe peaches, which makes people feel that they have to pick it. But it is such a delicate and charming show that there is always a touch of sadness on her face. What is the girl thinking? I'm thinking, if I stare at her face, I'll pass her by.
Finally, she seemed to notice my presumptuous eyes and glanced at me casually. Looking at my dull appearance, she couldn't help laughing. This smile swept away the sadness on her face, and also let me know what is called "a smiling city" and "the powder and paint in the sixth palace have disappeared without a trace" I stood there and let her pass me, leaving only a faint fragrance floating into my nose and my heart.
I slowly turned around and looked at the girl's drifting back. I feel that my body has lost something for no reason, as if my life has lost its meaning. Two lines of tears slowly slipped down my cheeks and knocked silently on the bluestone road on the ground.
It is still raining, and it seems that it will not stop. What about me? The rain in my heart has been raining.
O(∩_∩)o I hope I can help you,
O(∩_∩)o Please give a compliment or adopt it in time. Thank you very much (*^__^*)
7. "My Rain Lane" 800-word composition-thoughts on reading "Rain Lane".
This passage describes the blind date, love and lovesickness complex of young men and women. Taking Rain Lane, Oil Paper Umbrella and Beautiful Girl as creative carriers, a large number of techniques such as repetition, sentence repetition and duet are used to form a cyclical melody and a euphemistic musical sense. At the same time, metaphor and symbolism are used to organically combine China's classical tragic image of "the girl holding the oiled paper umbrella", the ancient and long rain lane and the girl with sadness in expectation, forming a blurred artistic conception, implicitly implying the author's confused, sad and longing mood and giving people a secluded aesthetic feeling.
Since the birth of Dai Wangshu's masterpiece Rain Lane, Rain Lane, Oil Paper Umbrella and Lilac Girl have become classic words that never stop singing, and they have also become synonymous with touching and sad experiences. The realm of this beautiful prose comes from the classics, which is the inheritance and continuation of the artistic conception of Rain Lane, but it is also innovative and expanded. In the author's pen, the long rainy lane is full of hope and expectation, which is a lingering romantic sentiment. That kind of deep acacia, that kind of persistent watch, soaked every word. The article focuses on the layout and rendering of things, wandering freely in reality and imagination, giving people a poetic feeling.
8. Write Dai Wangshu's Rain Lane Height into an 800-word essay Rain Lane in the South of the Yangtze River.
Jiangnan, a wet name, has always been a green dream for me who has lived in the north for a long time. My yearning for Jiangnan and my special liking for Jiangnan once made me doubt that my ancestral home should not be in the cold north. When I read Dai Wangshu's Rain Lane in middle school, I almost decided that I was the girl with lilacs. I don't think the rain lane is in the north, but in the south of the Yangtze River. Only Jiangnan has a rainy lane. Qingshi Road glows blue in the drizzle, with tall old stone walls covered with moss on both sides. There should be a small stone arch bridge at the end of the alley. There is a boat rowing slowly under the bridge and a graceful one standing on the bow deck. . . . . .
This is the Jiangnan in my dream, so real and so hazy, so kind and so strange. Oh, Jiangnan, I should come to see you again. I should find my own rain lane.
Therefore, I chose Suzhou, because she is slender and elegant, because she is reserved and serene.
When I arrived in Suzhou, the weather was particularly sunny. I stayed in a hotel and asked the waiter about the weather and when it would rain. The boy looked at me in surprise. He said that I was the most special tourist he had ever seen. I smiled and did not explain. Suzhou itself is made of rain. If there is no rain, it is like a girl without bright eyes and a flower without dew. Finally, I woke up one morning and found a drizzle floating outside the window. I happily put on the white cheongsam I bought in Suzhou, and then played a lavender oil-paper umbrella. When I walked to the hall, I asked the boy where there was an alley. He was obviously confused. He said there are many alleys in Suzhou, and I don't know which one to look for. I said the oldest, longest and quietest. He smiled, revealing a row of beautiful teeth. He said it was a little difficult, but he could tell me that there was an alley not far from here. He doesn't know if it is the oldest, but he thinks it is the longest and quietest. I smiled and thanked him. Just as I walked out of the gate, he told me that you are a tourist who really knows Suzhou.
I found the alley, and the moment I walked into her, the world suddenly quieted down, and all the noise stopped, only me and this rainy alley. I walked in slowly, and the footsteps on the bluestone board were my long inquiry. I said to myself, "I'm coming." This alley is really long and quiet. I think it should be the oldest, at least in my heart. The rain all over the sky weaves a fine net outside my umbrella. I touch the soft and slippery moss on the stone wall with my hand, and the dark green behind me must be full of vicissitudes. I don't know what will be on the other side of the high wall, maybe a teahouse or a bustling city, but I think there must be a big house thousands of years ago, and there must be a small building in the house. There must be a lonely woman upstairs sighing at the window. Her sad eyes faintly hurt the loneliness of thousands of years through the boundless net. At the moment, she is listening to the monologue in my heart. I am that woman, you are my previous life, and I am your afterlife. The rain lane is so long and quiet, as if it were a tunnel leading to history. A thousand years ago, purple sadness became a faint lilac in this rainy lane. I am the girl who walks gracefully with an umbrella. I'm taking a deep breath, and I was taking a deep breath thousands of years ago. My limbs and soul have dissolved in this wet fog, and then they evaporate and float away together. . . . . . At this moment, the melody that has been sung in my heart for 10,000 times has faded into a voice-over, and the exquisite hand holding a fine porcelain tea bowl that has been painted in my heart for 10,000 times has been dizzy and dyed into the background. The world has been frozen in this rainy lane, and I am a slightly yellowed silhouette in this rainy lane.
At this time, a burst of footsteps from far and near interrupted my desire. That is a girl walking leisurely with an umbrella. Just as we passed by, we all paused and smiled at each other. We are all wearing moonlight cheongsam and holding a lavender oiled paper umbrella. What a coincidence! In the same place, at the same time, two strangers wearing the same clothes met in the rain and forgot each other.
At the moment of looking back, I suddenly realized that I had reached the end of the alley and time was changing here. There is a traffic jam outside the alley, and there is a silent and restrained watch inside the alley. History has quietly faded out, waving goodbye to me in the distant horizon, and the girl who smiled at me has long since disappeared. She is the spirit of this rainy lane, waiting here for thousands of years, just to pass me by today? Maybe she, like me, is here looking for a dream that has been lost for thousands of years?
9. Write an 800-word essay on Rain Lane by Dai Wangshu. Please tell me that this wet name has always been a green dream for me who has lived in the north for a long time.
My yearning for Jiangnan and my special liking for Jiangnan once made me doubt that my ancestral home should not be in the cold north. When I read Dai Wangshu's Rain Lane in middle school, I almost decided that I was the girl with lilacs. I don't think the rain lane is in the north, but in the south of the Yangtze River. Only Jiangnan has a rainy lane. Qingshi Road glows blue in the drizzle, with tall old stone walls covered with moss on both sides. There should be a small stone arch bridge at the end of the alley. There is a boat rowing slowly under the bridge and a graceful one standing on the bow deck.
This is the Jiangnan in my dream, so real and so hazy, so kind and so strange.
Oh, Jiangnan, I should come to see you again. I should find my own rain lane. Therefore, I chose Suzhou, because she is slender and elegant, because she is reserved and serene.
When I arrived in Suzhou, the weather was particularly sunny. I stayed in a hotel and asked the waiter about the weather and when it would rain. The boy looked at me in surprise. He said that I was the most special tourist he had ever seen. I smiled and did not explain.
Suzhou itself is made of rain. If there is no rain, it is like a girl without bright eyes and a flower without dew. Finally, I woke up one morning and found a drizzle floating outside the window. I happily put on the white cheongsam I bought in Suzhou, and then played a lavender oil-paper umbrella. When I walked to the hall, I asked the boy where there was an alley. He was obviously confused. He said there are many alleys in Suzhou, and I don't know which one to look for.
I said the oldest, longest and quietest. He smiled, revealing a row of beautiful teeth. He said it was a little difficult, but he could tell me that there was an alley not far from here. He doesn't know if it is the oldest, but he thinks it is the longest and quietest.
I smiled and thanked him. Just as I walked out of the gate, he told me that you are a tourist who really knows Suzhou. I found the alley, and the moment I walked into her, the world suddenly quieted down, and all the noise stopped, only me and this rainy alley.
I walked in slowly, and the footsteps on the bluestone board were my long inquiry. I said to myself, "I'm coming." This alley is really long and quiet. I think it should be the oldest, at least in my heart.
The rain all over the sky weaves a fine net outside my umbrella. I touch the soft and slippery moss on the stone wall with my hand, and the dark green behind me must be full of vicissitudes. I don't know what will be on the other side of the high wall, maybe a teahouse or a bustling city, but I think there must be a big house thousands of years ago, and there must be a small building in the house. There must be a lonely woman upstairs sighing at the window. Her sad eyes faintly hurt the loneliness of thousands of years through the boundless net. At the moment, she is listening to the monologue in my heart.
I am that woman, you are my previous life, and I am your afterlife. The rain lane is so long and quiet, as if it were a tunnel leading to history. A thousand years ago, purple sadness became a faint lilac in this rainy lane. I am the girl who walks gracefully with an umbrella.
I'm taking a deep breath, and I was taking a deep breath thousands of years ago. My limbs and soul have dissolved in this wet fog, and then they evaporate and float away together.
At this moment, the melody that has been sung in my heart for 10,000 times has faded into a voice-over, and the exquisite hand holding a fine porcelain tea bowl that has been painted in my heart for 10,000 times has been dizzy and dyed into the background. The world has been frozen in this rainy lane, and I am a slightly yellowed silhouette in this rainy lane. At this time, a burst of footsteps from far and near interrupted my desire. That is a girl walking leisurely with an umbrella. Just as we passed by, we all paused and smiled at each other. We are all wearing moonlight cheongsam and holding a lavender oiled paper umbrella. What a coincidence! In the same place, at the same time, two strangers wearing the same clothes met in the rain and forgot each other.
At the moment of looking back, I suddenly realized that I had reached the end of the alley and time was changing here. There is a traffic jam outside the alley, and there is a silent and restrained watch inside the alley. History has quietly faded out, waving goodbye to me in the distant horizon, and the girl who smiled at me has long since disappeared. She is the spirit of this rainy lane, waiting here for thousands of years, just to pass me by today? Maybe she, like me, is here looking for a dream that has been lost for thousands of years? If you are satisfied, please accept it.
10. My 800-word composition in Rain Lane Outside the window, it is another rainy season. In my memory, every rainy day, I like to step on a lonely rainy lane and meet a long, long chapter. The rainy lane outlines a picture of childhood.
This is a city surrounded by mountains and rivers. In the north, the endless Yangtze River is rolling in, and in the south, it is the vast shore of Taihu Lake. A canal that has been flowing quietly for thousands of years passes through the city. Without water, weave a hazy dream in memory.
In the rainy season, the quiet town smells like a supermarket. Rain and ink south of the Yangtze River,
It is endowed with a unique spirit by the lonely rain lane. Hold a red oiled paper umbrella and wear a pair of green ones.
Clogs are about to drip, walking on the indigo slate. The rain wet my forehead. touch control
Touching the ancient city wall, my thoughts returned to that time of dispute. Endless noise
The whole rainy lane seems to be telling something. Bricks of the ancient city record too many dead people.
Sadness and helplessness. The drizzle clears the sorrow, and it is the rain that silently washes away those scars. The alternation of years
In the sound, I feel too much unbearable and bitterness.
Rain, still rustling underground, gently stepped on the indigo brick, listening to the sound of clogs.
Benedict felt nostalgic. The whole roadway is full of antiquity and complexity.
The lingering rain engraved too many memories. Looking around, I feel sad and helpless all over the sky.
Listening to the rain lane, there was a wave in my heart The fall of countless wars has made
Every minute of the memory is painful and real. Rain, like a broken-winged Lan Yi bird.
Rain falls and falls, hitting my heart. In the tears and candlelight of clearing the case, I retreated in frustration.
Along this lonely rain lane. The rainy road ahead, whose eyes did my lonely figure light up?
Countless times, carefree and hesitant, the years have turned over, and a bloody "demolition" is impressively printed in front of us.
In that blue alley, my heart is once again faintly painful. I know, that rainy lane.
Memory has come to an end. There is no romance of selling apricot flowers in the deep alleys of the Ming Dynasty in the world.
This rainy season, so long and lonely, walking in the rain lane is not as clear as drizzle.
Sorrow, the deep alley in the rain with a touch of sadness, carrying infinite disappointment, carrying the past thoughts.
Love is lost in memory.