Wen Zhen Wenshengwei
Anchor Shen Wen
I always like to listen to the spring rain alone at night. When the noisy whistle and voices faded away with the night, I made a pot of tea and leaned against the window lattice, listening to the rain outside the window. The Spring Rain Concerto evokes people's infinite reverie.
The spring rain in the south of the Yangtze River is delicate, not as rough and unrestrained as the rain in the north. It hits the glass like a snakeskin drum with rapid rhythm, clear and powerful; The rain in Jiangnan water town is usually lingering, shy and affectionate, and a layer of gauze covers the earth lightly. If it's not a pool of ripples, sometimes you won't notice her coming.
The rain in the south is light without losing its rigidity and softness, subtle without affectation. To be precise, it's a bit like a ditty played by a bamboo flute, jumping briskly, not anxious or slow. Besides the sound of rain, you can smell the breeze in the air. On the mountain, the rain danced in the bamboo forest and rolled into the pine forest, dense and misty. The rain in Jiangnan water town is the tears of women in the world of mortals. There is a saying that "the song of the green hills is beautiful, with little light and shadow, colorful flowers and rain parting, and the sound of midsummer falls on the snow slope". Rain is like rain, misty rain is drizzly, acacia is lingering, and feelings are hard to disappear.
Every time I listen to the spring rain, I think of the old house in my hometown. Whispering that Chun Yan may snuggle under the eaves, or quietly fly into my heart through the crystal rain ... The gray cornices dripping with water and the vines touching the blue tiles along the white walls outline the shadow of my hometown, like a fresh ink painting unfolding gently along the picture scroll of memory.
Oh! Moss always likes to hide between tiles. After several spring rains, it leaned out its shy head, not bright green, but a touch of dark green mixed between tiles, as if it were a green wrinkle embedded in tiles, harmonious and smart. The peach blossoms in full bloom in the courtyard are delicate and charming, full of spring scenery and intoxicating.
Hometown in the rain, quiet but not lonely, beautiful and unobtrusive, is a pot of fragrant teas, fresh and simple. At this moment, a little bit of coolness slipped across my cheek. I jogged in the spring rain, stepped on the rhythm of the rain, spread my wings, turned into Chun Yan to find the shadow of my hometown and smelled the peach blossoms in my hometown.
Mobile listening
About the author: Wen Shengwei, a systematic worker of human society and a member of Jiangxi Writers Association, has written more than 350 essays, poems, essays, reportage and news reports, many of which were published by Xinhua News Agency, People's Daily and China Daily.
Anchor, Shen Wen
Director of Yangzhou Recitation Association and member of Jiangsu Photographers Association,
Invited anchor of CCTV TV poetry and prose.
May every day be filled with joy.
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