The clothes are wet and the apricot blossoms are raining, and the face is not cold. -Monk Zhinan's quatrains
Weicheng is also lighter than rain and dust, and the guest house is green and willow. -Wang Wei's "Send Yuan II An Xi"
More than 480 ancient temples were left in the Southern Dynasties, and countless pagodas were shrouded in wind and rain. -Du Mu's "Jiang Nanchun Jueju"
The night will be over, I lie in bed listening to the sound of wind and rain, in a daze in my dream, riding an armored horse across the frozen river to the northern battlefield. -Lu You's The Storm of November 4th.
Good rain knows the season, when spring comes. -Du Fu's "Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night"
Seven or eight stars in the sky, two or three rains in front of the mountain ―― Xin Qiji's Xijiang Moon
How many flowers fall after a stormy night. -Meng Haoran's "Spring Dawn"
Mourning day, drizzle like tears; Pedestrians on the road want to die. -Du Mu's Tomb-Sweeping Day
The water is bright and sunny, and the mountains are cloudy and rainy. -Su Shi's Drinking Rain after Chu Qing on the Lake.
The mountains and rivers are broken, the wind is drifting, and life experiences the rain ―― Wen Tianxiang's Crossing the Lingdingyang.
After the rain, an empty mountain stands in the autumn night —— (Wang Wei: living in autumn)
There is no rain on the mountain road, and the air is green and wet —— (Wang Wei: In the Mountains)
Wu, a man from Lianjiang on a cold rainy night, and the lonely Chushan —— Wang Changling: Lotus Inn and Xin Jian Break Up.
2. Fifty ancient poems about rain-Du Fu's Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night.
There are seven or eight stars in the sky, and I don't know how many flowers are broken. -Su Shi's Drinking Rain after Chu Qing on the Lake.
The mountains and rivers are broken and the wind is floating, and the blowing surface is not cold. Chushan's Fujian is plain and clear ————— (Wang Changling. -Du Mu's "Jiang Nanchun Jueju"
Lying in the dead of night listening to the wind and rain, life has experienced ups and downs, and the rain has leveled off —— Wen Tianxiang's Crossing the Lingdingyang.
After the rain, the mountains are empty, and the MOS Rail Glacier is dreaming. There are many towers in the misty rain. -Monk Zhinan's quatrains
"Faithfulness is light in the rain": "In the mountains")
This is a cold rainy night, and the guest house is green and willow-colored: "Autumn in the mountains")
There is no rain on the mountain road, so there is no need for oblique wind and drizzle. Spring has come, and the mountains are empty and rainy. Beginning of autumn at dusk-(Wang Wei, two or three minutes before the rain-Xin Qiji's Xijiang Moon)
But now I remember that night, that storm. -Meng Haoran's "Spring Dawn"
It rains in succession during the Qingming Festival. -Wang Wei's "Send Yuan II An Xi"
480 temples in the Southern Dynasties. -Du Mu's Tomb-Sweeping Day
The water is bright and the pedestrians on the road are dying. -Lu You's The Storm of November 4th.
A good rain tells the season. -Zhang's Fishing Song.
The clothes are wet, the apricot blossoms are raining, and the clothes are wet ————— (Wang Wei
3. Essay or poem about Yuwei Wu Ying's Dwelling House: Although the nobility is different, there is a camp when you go out. There is nothing to pull, so this seclusion. Rainy night is coming, I wonder if spring grass will grow. The green hills are breaking dawn, and birds are singing in the house. Sometimes I make dolls with Taoist priests or walk with firewood. Since the Ann Jian bad, this person is bo Rong Shi.
Du Fu's "Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night": Good rain knows the season, when spring comes. Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently. The wild path is dark, and the river is bright. Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy.
Bai Juyi's Shang Yang's White-haired Man: "The shadow behind the lamp is lingering, and the rustling rain beats against the window" (excerpt)
Jiang Kui's "Pingfu sees a move and doesn't want to leave": I'm too old to listen to orchestral music, and it's not convenient to have a drink when I'm sick. Life is alive, and it is rare to encounter good rain before the summer heat this autumn; When enjoying the cool, please let me stay at home with a warm pillow.
Su Shi's Ding Fengbo: If you don't listen to the leaves beating in the Woods, why not sing and walk slowly? Bamboo poles and sandals are more dexterous than riding horses. What's to be afraid of? A raincoat and hemp fiber, despite the wind and rain, still live my life. The cold spring breeze woke me up, and the weather was a little cold, but the mountains caught my eye with oblique photos. Looking back at the bleak land, there is no wind, no rain and no eyes. (My favorite, hehe)
Fang Yue's Listening to the Rain: Zhu Zhai sleeps and listens to the rain, and moss grows in his dreams. Opposite the lonely mountain, idle birds don't guess.
Wei's Xixi Chuzhou: I pity the grass alone, and there are orioles singing in the trees. The spring tide brought the rain late and urgent, and there was no boat on the wild crossing.
Wang Zao's "Two Stories about Things" (1): Swallows will whisper in summer, and the green locust garden will not be overcast. No one saw the rain in the west window, and the banana was just a few feet away.
Wentong's "After the Rain in Beizhai": After the rain, two birds come to occupy bamboo, and in autumn, a butterfly looks for flowers.
Zheng Wenbao's Liu Zhi Ci: Pavilion painting is a spring pool until pedestrians are half drunk; Regardless of the misty rain, I will hate Jiangnan.
Xu Fuchun visits the lake: When will the swallows return? Peach branches on both sides of the river are soaked in water, and red peach blossoms are in bloom. After a few days of rain, the river rose and flooded the small bridge, so people could not cross the river. At this time, a boat slowly sailed out from the shade of willow trees.
Weng Juan's "April in the Country": The mountains and rivers are all white, and the rain is like smoke in the sound of rules. In April, there were few idle people in the countryside, and sericulture was planted in the fields.
Zhao Shixiu's Guest: It rains at home in Huangmei season, and frogs are everywhere in the grass pond. It's past midnight, and the invited guests haven't come yet. I tapped the chess pieces bored and shook the wick of an oil lamp. (What a beautiful artistic conception)
Wang Changling's Farewell to Xin Jian in Furong Inn: It's cold and rainy at night, and it's clear to see off guests in Chushan. Friends, if my friends in Luoyang invite me; Just say I'm still Bing Xin Okho, and stick to my faith!
The article's "More Leakage": Indus, the rain in the middle of the night, is the pain of love that never gives up. A leaf, a sound, empty footsteps fall into the light. (Beautiful beyond words)
Dai Shulun's Suxi Pavilion: Yan did not return in the Spring Festival Evening, and a misty rain chilled the apricot blossoms.
Li Shangyin: You asked me that the return date was undecided, and the rain rose in the autumn pool at night. When * * * cut the candle at the west window, but talk about the rain at night.
There are also many lyrics, such as rain in June, coming to Taipei to watch the rain in winter, meteor shower, continuous rain, red rain, blue sky, rain, not tears, how are you in a foreign land, a cloud made of rain in the wind and so on. These songs all have lyrics about rain. You can look them up. It's as simple as that.
4. Fifty poems about rain 1, Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night.
Don du fu
Good rain knows the season, when spring comes.
Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently.
The wild path is dark, and the river is bright.
Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy.
2. Fishing songs
Tang Zhang He Zhi
In front of Mount Cisse, egrets fly freely, plump mandarin fish swim happily on the river, and peaches floating on the water are so bright and full.
An old man in the bank, wearing a green bamboo hat raincoat and a green raincoat, braved the wind and rain and fished leisurely. He was fascinated by the beautiful spring scenery and didn't even go home in the rain.
3. "Spring Dawn"
Tang Meng Hao ran
Sleeping sickness in spring unconsciously broke the morning, and the chirping of birds disturbed my sleep.
How many flowers fall after a stormy night.
4. Tomb-Sweeping Day
Don Dumu
A drizzling rain falls like tears on the Mourning Day; The mourner's heart is going to break on his way.
Excuse me, where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy pointed to Xinghua Village.
5. Light Rain in Early Spring
Tang hanyu
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.
This is the most beautiful season of the year, far better than the late spring of the green willow.
6. Listen to the rain
Song Fang Yue
Zhu Zhai sleeps and listens to the rain, and moss grows in dreams.
Opposite the lonely mountain, idle birds don't guess.
7. In Chuzhou, Xixi
Don Wei Wu Ying
Alone, grass grows by the stream, and orioles sing on the trees.
The spring tide brought the rain late and urgent, and there was no boat on the wild crossing.
8. Spring outing on the lake
teacher
A pair of swallows, when did you fly back? Peach branches on both sides of the river are soaked in water, and red peach blossoms are in bloom.
After a few days of rain, the river rose and flooded the small bridge, so people could not cross the river. At this time, a boat slowly sailed out from the shade of willow trees.
9, "Wang Hulou Drunk Book"
Song sushi
Clouds poured out and poured down like ink, but a mountain range was exposed on the horizon, bright and fresh, and the splashing water was like white pearl gravel, splashing on the boat.
Suddenly, the wind rolled up and dispersed the clouds in the sky. The lake was blue as a mirror, beautiful and gentle.
10, April in the countryside
Song Weng Juan
The mountains and plains are all green, and the sound of Zigui is raining like smoke.
In April, there were few idle people in the countryside, and sericulture was planted in the fields.
1 1, dating
Song Zhao Shi Xiu
In Huangmei season, it rains at home, and frogs are everywhere in the grass pond.
It's past midnight, and the invited guests haven't come yet. I tapped the chess pieces bored and shook the wick of an oil lamp.
12, Hibiscus Inn broke up with Xinjian.
Don Wang Changling
Misty rain enveloped Wu's day overnight; Send you in the morning, lonely and sad in Chushan!
Friends, if my friends in Luoyang invite me; Just say I'm still Bing Xin Okho, and stick to my faith!
13, a note to friends in the north on a rainy night.
Tang Li Shangyin
When you ask about the return date, it's hard to say, evening rain, Manqiuchi.
When * * * cut the candle at the west window, but talk about the rain at night.
14, an autumn night in the mountains
Don
The empty mountains are bathed in a new rain, and feel the early autumn at night.
The bright moon shed clear light from the cracks and cleared the fountain on the rocks.
The bamboo forest is sonorous, the washerwoman returns, and the lotus leaves are swaying to get on the canoe.
Spring spring might as well give it a rest, and the autumn sun can stay on the hills for a long time.
15, "Send"
He Xun in Southern Dynasties
The guest misses for a hundred years, but walking alone weighs a thousand miles.
It rained black in the river, and the waves and Whitestorm began to rise.
16, Lanxi Acura
Don Dai Shulun
Liu Wanmei hangs on the cool moon, and the Zhongshan mirror looks more.
Peach blossoms rained in Lanxi for three days, and carp came to the beach at midnight.
17, Jiangnan Spring
Don Dumu
Jiangnan, the sound of green and red flowers, the waterside village in the foothills.
More than 480 ancient temples were left in the Southern Dynasties, and countless pagodas were shrouded in wind and rain.
Xianyang East Building 18
Don Xu Hun
Climb high and miss the ancient oil for thousands of miles, but the willows in your eyes are like Jiangnan.
The red sunset is in the temple outside the temple, and the wind has not yet come, and the wind has already blown the buildings in Xianyang.
At dusk, birds fly in the garden, and in late autumn, cicadas chirp in the leafy trees.
Passers-by don't ask about the past, only the Weihe River flows eastward as always.
19, quatrains
Song monk's south
The shade of ancient wood is a short awning, and the stick thistle helps me cross the east of the bridge.
The clothes are wet and the apricot blossoms are raining, and the face is not cold.
20. "Send Yuan Ershi Anxi"
Don
The rain in the early morning moistened the dust of the land, the inn of the inn, the branches and leaves of the inn, and a new leaf
Sincerely advise friends to drink a glass of wine, and it is difficult to meet their loved ones when they go out to Yang Guan in the west.
2 1, 1 1 the storm on April 4th.
Song luyou
I lay sprawled in my lonely country, not feeling sad about my situation, but thinking about defending the frontier of the country.
The night will be over, I lie in bed listening to the sound of wind and rain, in a daze in my dream, riding an armored horse across the frozen river to the northern battlefield.
5. Essays and poems about rain Listen to the cold rain. After the afterglow, the cold in late spring intensified.
First the material is steep, then the rainy season begins, sometimes it is dripping, and sometimes the sky is wet. Even in the dream, it seems to be holding an umbrella. With an umbrella, you can avoid a cold rain and the whole rainy season.
Even my thoughts are wet. Going home every day, it is a dream to walk into the rain and wind from Jinmen Street to Xiamen Street.
It's sad to think of Taipei like this. This is a completely black-and-white movie. I think the whole history of China and China is nothing more than a black-and-white movie. It rained like this from beginning to end. I wonder if this feeling comes from antonioni.
But that land is strange. Twenty-five years, a quarter of a century, even if it rains, Qian Shan is full of water and umbrellas. For twenty-five years, everything has been broken, only the climate and only the weather forecast are still involved.
A huge cold current rolled in from that land, and this coolness was shared with the ancient continent. You can't jump into her arms and be swept by her skirt. It is also a comfort to your children. When I think like this, there is a trace of warmth in the cold.
In this way, he hopes that these narrow alleys will extend forever, and his thinking can also be extended, not from Jinmen Street to Xiamen Street, but from Jinmen to Xiamen. He is from Xiamen, at least in a broad sense. For twenty years, he has been living in Xiamen Street instead of Xiamen, which is a mockery and a comfort.
But in a broad sense, he is also a Jiangnan native, a Changzhou native, a Nanjing native, a Chuanwaer, and a teenager in a broad sense. The apricot blossom and spring rain in the south of the Yangtze River was his boyhood.
It will be clear in half a month. Antonioni's lens tossed and turned, tossed and turned.
Residual water is like. Heaven and earth are like.
There are thousands of people from north to south. Is there porcelain in it? And, of course, China, which will always be China.
It's just that the apricot blossom and spring rain are gone, the shepherd boy no longer gives directions, the sword gate is drizzling, and the dust in Weicheng is gone. However, where is the land he dreams of day and night? Is it in the front page title of the newspaper? Or is it a rumor in Hong Kong? Or Fu Cong's black keys white key Ma Sicong's jump bow plucking strings? Or is it the hope of antonioni's mirror-ending horse week? Or, in the walls and glass cabinets of the Palace Museum, in the rhyme of Taibai Dongpo in the sound of gongs and drums in Beijing Opera? Apricot flowers.
Spring rain in Jiangnan.
Liuge, maybe that piece of soil is in it. Whether it is Chixian, Shenzhou or China, it is changing. As long as Cang Xie's inspiration persists and his beautiful China is not old, his image and magnetic centripetal force will inevitably grow.
Because a square character is a world. At the beginning, there were words, so they pinned the hearts of the Han people and the memories and hopes of their ancestors.
For example, write a word "rain" out of thin air, dribs and drabs, torrential rain, intermittent rain, all love and rain, and that's it. What can satisfy this aesthetic feeling visually? Jin Mu, like fire and water, has become the world by itself. When you enter the "Rain" Department, the ancient China is ever-changing, and you will notice that beautiful frost, snow, clouds and terrible thunder and hail only show God's good temper and bad temper, and the Meteorological Observatory takes pains to read an encyclopedia that laymen can't understand.
Listen, the cold rain. Look at that cold rain.
Smell it, cold rain, lick it, cold rain. The rain fell on his umbrella, on the umbrellas, raincoats, houses and antennas of millions of people in this city.
It's raining in Keelung Port, on the breakwater, on the boat in the channel, and it's raining this season. Rain is a woman and should be the most emotional.
The rain and dew are ethereal and psychedelic, smelling carefully, refreshing, with a little mint fragrance. When it is thick, it gives off a faint earthy smell unique to grass trees after soaking their hair. Maybe it's actually the smell of earthworm and snail. After all, this is a shock. Maybe it's life on the ground and underground, maybe it's the silly crawling of China's ancient memories, maybe it's the subconscious and dreams of plants, and that smell is fishy.
I went to America for the third time and lived in the high Denver Mountain for two years. The western United States is mountainous and desert, and it is dry for thousands of miles.
The sky is as blue as Anglo-Saxon eyes; The ground is as red as Indian skin; Cloud is a rare Bai Niao. There are few clouds on the dazzling snow peaks in the Rocky Mountains.
One is high, the other is dry, and the third is above the forest line, and fir and cypress also stop. "Clouds Wangfu interest? Free and easy in my chest "or" Yellow Rain in Shang Lue "in China's poems is an ugly landscape in the Rocky Mountains. The victory of the Rocky Mountains lies in stones and snow.
Those jagged rocks overlap and depend on each other, creating a thrilling sculpture exhibition for the sun and wind thousands of miles away. White and illusory snow, cold and clear, endless momentum makes people feel hard to breathe, cold and sour.
However, to appreciate the realm of "clouds, when I look back, just behind me, fog, when I entered them, it was gone", you still have to go back to China. The humidity in Taiwan Province Province is very high, which can best accommodate the misty and rainy mood.
I stayed at the head of the stream for two nights. The trees were fragrant and the cold hit my elbow at night. I slept like a fairy, resting on overlapping mountain shadows and all the sounds. It rained all night in the mountains and woke up the next morning. In the primitive silence where the rising sun did not rise, I ventured into the secret of the forest, walked all the way up the mountain through the broken branches on the ground and the trickling rain, facing the cold all night.
The mountain at the head of the stream is dense with trees and dense fog. The lush water vapor rises from the bottom of the Ran Ran, sometimes thick and sometimes light, and the transpiration changes. We can only see the hidden peaks and valleys at a glance from the open space where the fog breaks through the clouds, and it is almost impossible to have a panoramic view. I have entered the mountain at least twice, and I can only play hide-and-seek with the peaks in Xitou. Back in Taipei, the world asked me, except for smiling and pretending to be mysterious, the actual impression is nothing more than mountains in nothingness.
The scenery of China, surrounded by clouds and hidden mountains and water, gives people the charm of Song painting. The world may be Zhao's, but the landscape is rice.
But, after all, whether the Mi's father and son painted landscapes like China or China in Song Dynasty. I'm afraid no one can say clearly. The rain is not only audible, quite heavy, but also audible.
Listen to the cold rain. Listening to the rain, as long as it is not a rock-breaking typhoon and rainstorm, will always be an aesthetic feeling of hearing.
Autumn in the mainland, whether it is raindrops, phoenix trees or showers hitting lotus leaves, always sounds a little bleak, sad and sad. Enjoy yourself on the island today.
6. After reading the prose about rain, I believe that one day I will realize my dream and reach the other side of victory. I saw the colorful clouds waving to me on the horizon, I saw the flowers smiling at me along the way, and I saw the stream in the mountain stream casting an expectant look at me. I firmly believe that as long as my dream is still there, I will succeed. With their blessing, I will have indestructible power in my heart. One day I will come back with my victory and my purest smile. I will definitely come back. At that time, I will be the greatest in the world. At that time, I will announce that I have surpassed myself in order to break the cocoon into a butterfly!
Everyone is a book, and the process is comparable to the rise and fall of a dynasty. Every time I read it, I have an unusual mood and feeling, which is worth exploring, challenging, accepting, bearing and remembering all my life.
7. There are prose poems about rain. Is there a soul in the rain in May?
Some people say that the rain in May is full of acacia, and acacia is as thick as rain.
The rain in May has a variety of styles, always falling with charm, kissing every inch of the earth's skin, and your touch is everywhere!
Look at the lonely flowers in the garden. Under the light rain, they are dreaming their own dreams. The leaves spit out small bubbles and make a squeaking sound. Sometimes they sing and dance in the rain, sometimes they seem to be ashamed, and sometimes they moan happily. ...
After the rain clears, I miss you like cotton. Sometimes people will feel inexplicable loneliness in this rainy day, and touching the scene will produce a beautiful touch!
Catch up with such a rainy day, I can't help but hold up an umbrella and come into the rain, listening to the sound of rain hitting the umbrella, dripping straight into people's hearts and playing a heart song with my heartbeat.
Love is serious, meaning deep, and the continuous rain is full of acacia.
Look at the lovers under the umbrella, soft voice, gentle eyes, affectionate eyes, shy posture of innocent girls, and the rain outside the umbrella softens into a dreamlike melody.
At this moment, the rain soothes anxiety and drives away the desolation in my heart!
My foot deliberately stepped into a small puddle, and the ripples in the water were like a shallow smile on my lover's face. Looking back, those flowers and plants are particularly beautiful.
If I am intoxicated with its nourishment, it is better to say that I am addicted to the persistence of rain.
The light rain in May, although I can't stay, I have no regrets!
You took my blessing away, and I look forward to getting wet next time. You came to me silently in the rain. ...
Time brought the rain in June, less warmth, more rugged and unrestrained like a man. Walking in such a hearty rain and feeling the stimulation of dreams and hallucinations can awaken the soul, and people will be passionate and have a fever and need to cool down. I welcome it.