. Thoughts on a rainy night
Night is an invisible, dark net that covers you and me. Within a short distance, I can't see you, and you can't see me clearly. The only thing that couldn't be cover

. Thoughts on a rainy night

Night is an invisible, dark net that covers you and me. Within a short distance, I can't see you, and you can't see me clearly. The only thing that couldn't be covered was the patter of rain, like silk and long threads. The rain falls on the treetops and is intercepted by the branches and leaves; it falls on the fields and is absorbed by the soil; it falls on the pool and is assimilated by the light waves. Only when it falls into people's hearts will it sprout and grow into boundless thoughts.

In my thoughts on a rainy night, there is only you, just like you as a lilac. Holding an oil-paper umbrella, I walked through the alley as long as rain, walked slowly and gracefully, and walked into my longing eyes. God cooperated and sent lightning in time. In an instant, with a slight lift of the oil-paper umbrella, your waterfall-like hair, bright eyes and red lips are your sketch, outlining your otherworldly purity and soul-stirring "stunning"! Press the oil-paper umbrella lightly, and the scene will freeze under the oil-paper umbrella - a lilac-like long skirt. At this moment, the incomprehensible and charming rain silk was woven into cloth, and the cloth like cicada wings blurred the eyes that should not be hazy.

Every time on a drizzling rainy night, I am always used to standing in the corner of the long alley and staring at the other end of the alley. Secretly looking forward to your appearance. I hope to once again capture the details other than the speechless bright eyes and red lips, even fragments as small as raindrops, and use them as materials to fill in the large blanks on my drawing board. My expectations were not high!

When I feel discouraged and exhausted, quietly you come, just like the first time I saw you, holding an oil paper umbrella, walking in gracefully... , passed by again.

My heart was beaten mercilessly by the rain. There was no blood, only tears, a river of tears. Like lilac, you have been here, and the oil-paper umbrella has been carried, but the opportunities are often missed.

What should be used to fill the blank space on the canvas?

Thoughts on a Rainy Night

Tonight. It was a rainy night. But it is not the fine drizzle in the south of the Yangtze River that I love. It was a night of typhoon and heavy rain.

Go home from get off work at half past ten. It was only when I got downstairs that I saw this heavy rain that was just what I imagined. Everyone else was lining up, consciously or unconsciously, to wait for the rain to stop. Then get off work. They didn't dare rush into the rain. But I dare. And I did.

Go into the rain. I can feel the strange looks in other people's eyes. I don't care. A strong wind blew from my side. I can't control the pace of my progress. It's the same as I couldn't control myself and chose to give up on this pursuit. But I still have to move forward. I have to go back to the dormitory. Heading towards the end point.

We’re almost home. The typhoon is blowing in the face with rain. The raindrops hitting my face were cold. Didi pierced the heart. It hurts and is cold. The wind blew up my T-shirt. Just let the cold raindrops surround and spread over every inch of my skin. The purpose is strange. My senses have become numb. It's like choosing to give up. My heart also felt like it was still water. Face it calmly. But he was getting more and more flustered. The violent wind forced me to take a few steps back. I had to turn my back to keep my balance. He won't fall to the ground in the fight with it. It's the same as in this pursuit, I have to retreat to the starting point and then turn around and return to the original track of my life. Although there is pain that tears the soul. But I have no choice. I can only do this. And I also want to smile and wish each other the same. Only in this way can you feel the great loss in your heart because you choose to give up.

Close your eyes quietly. Let the typhoon blow against my weak body. Until trembling. Let the heavy rain wash over your skin. Wash your soul. Let it take away every laughing moment of this pursuit. I'm a little tired. Then it slowly broke apart bit by bit.

Go home. Look at the ceiling quietly. Quietly listen to the low roar of the typhoon blowing the trees in the back mountain. Listen to the heavy rain pounding everything in the world, making an unrecognizable sound. Light a cigarette quietly. Let my mind wander into memories. Let your thoughts drift into the future. Let my thoughts slowly solidify in this night rain. I condense every moment in this night rain.

Tonight, quietly and alone, I feel the sudden rain in the courtyard. It's like quietly feeling this pursuit that comes and goes in a hurry.

Tonight. I just want to be blank in my dream of sleeping quietly in the rain.

Listen to the Rain

In the Four Hundred and Eighty Temples of the Southern Dynasties, many towers were in the mist and rain. ——Du Mu

I like to listen to the sound of drizzle alone at night. Rain is the spirit of nature, I think. Turn on the desk lamp, the yellow light sprinkles a piece of warmth, soak in a cup of fragrant tea, taste it carefully, and listen quietly...

Open the window, the fresh earthy fragrance floats in with the sound of pattering rain. Enter, oh, I can only feel the indescribable and indescribable comfort. I want three parts of Yi An's gracefulness, three parts of Dongpo's boldness, three parts of Qi Qing's indifference, and a piece of Nalan's mood to make it into a perfect combination. Come back and listen to the sound of natural rain.

The spring rain is small and warm, she is fresh but not charming, small but powerful, she always talks in detail, telling the remoteness and warmth of spring. Xia Yu's boldness makes people happy. She is like a shocking masterpiece. Suddenly the mountains and rivers flow, and sometimes they cascade thousands of miles away. Qiu Yu's sorrow and resentment make people love and pity her. Sometimes she sings softly, sometimes like flowing clouds and flowing water, and sometimes she wants to say goodbye. Dong Yu is no longer reserved, but her demeanor is dignified, graceful and elegant. Listening to the sound of rain in the four seasons, I can't help but feel the changes in the world.

Rain is spiritual. It seems to follow people's wishes and "sneaks into the night with the wind, moistening things silently". The rain is also gentle, and there is no "apricot blossom rain that makes your clothes wet, and the willow wind blowing on your face is not cold". The rain is still beautiful, "The light rain in the sky is as moist as crisp, and the color of grass looks far away but not close." Whenever the winter or summer changes, I always feel that the world is dangerous and the world is rolling in, so I yearn for the "green bamboo hats, green coir raincoats, and gentle wind." The rain doesn’t have to come back.”

The tea in the cup is gone and I don’t want to pour another cup. Miaoyu once said: "One cup is a taste, two cups will become a thirst-quenching fool."

Wind is strong, rain is intellectual.

Wind is art, and rain is almost philosophy.

I like to be alone at night, listening to the sound of rain and the melody of nature. "Once upon a time, the sea was difficult to make water, except for Wushan, it was not clouds." She made me think continuously, and this thought was like a white cloud, floating in my heart The sky above makes it quiet and high.

The more sophistication a mortal has, the more wit he will have; the more wisdom he has, the less elegance he will have. I would rather have less wit and more elegance. Intoxicated by the elegance of taking refuge in nature.

In the dead of night, people turn on the lamp and listen to the rain. They smile knowingly.

Rain in my mind

"Rain", a simple word, is nothing in the eyes of some people, but to me, it is like the end of life. When you are young, that beautiful and warm sunshine illuminates everything in your life, and it washes away all the dirt in your soul...

My grandmother, she is a timeless person. He is such a leisurely person all the time, as if he has been separated from everyone and everything in his life. I remember when I was 5 years old, on a rainy day, I leaned next to my grandma and asked her: "Grandma, grandma, why don't you cry? Have you never been sad in your life?" Grandma She glanced at me and asked me with a smile: "Do you want to know?" I nodded vigorously: "Like me, I cry when my mother hits me." She said, "Look," she said, looking out the window, "Then Rain." I looked at the rain and said, "Isn't that rain?" "No!" Grandma said. "God?" I was confused. At that time I thought: Could this rain still give us happiness and luck? "Yes, it's God, the greatest God in the world," grandma said. "It can wash away your dirt, whether it's on the outside or in the mind."

Later, no A few years later, grandma passed away, gone forever. There was a lot of crying in the room, but I didn’t cry, not because I didn’t love my grandma, I loved her, and I loved my grandma. However, a strong force made my tears evaporate and disappear. When grandma died, her face was rosy and she went there with a smile. What is that? What's lingering next to grandma's bed? That is a belief! A belief that will never leave! It followed her closely and never left.

Outside the window, it was drizzling...

A few years later, I finally felt it - the rain in my heart! ——The real God!

Rain, my God. It washed away the dirt for me, whether it was externally or mentally.

Listen to the rain

Among the sounds of nature, I love the sound of rain the most. To me, that sound is no different from a melodious, elegant or bold sonata.

My mother said that when I was young, when I was crying in my mother’s arms, as long as I heard the patter of rain, I would immediately stop crying and lie quietly in my mother’s arms. , with two bright black eyes open, holding his breath and concentrating, that serious look, many people find it cute.

When I was five or six years old, when I started to remember, whenever it rained, I would always sit alone by the door, resting my chin on my elbows, listening to the sound of falling rain. Sometimes at night, my grandma calls me to go to bed, but I don't want to leave the door and still sit there. Therefore, my grandma, who loves me, always sits with me until the rain stops or until late at night.

Now, I am 12 years old and have entered my teenage years. I have lost a lot of my childish habits, but this problem of listening to the rain has not changed, but has become worse.

There are eight people in our family, and I have a small bed. In order to listen to the rain, I put the bed under the window. Whenever it rains, the fresh sound of rain penetrates my eardrums like charming music. Especially at night, I sat upright on the small bed and listened attentively. Thousands of raindrops in the sky poured into my heart. My body seemed to expand and I felt that I had gained infinite strength. What a charming moment it was!

Once, during Chinese class, it suddenly started raining. My old habit relapsed, I forgot to listen to the lecture, looked at the misty things outside the window, listened to the rhythmic sound of the rain, and was immersed in the wonderful realm. The Chinese teacher noticed my absent-minded attitude and asked me a simple question. He called me three times, but I didn't respond. It wasn't until the teacher patted my head that I woke up.

If there is a violent storm, the howling wind is accompanied by the sound of rain, plus lightning and thunder one after another, the formation will seem like thousands of troops descending from the sky, which is thrilling. At such moments, I would dance with excitement, and my heart would be filled with infinite excitement, as if I wanted to join thousands of troops and charge towards the defeated enemy. I was so happy. Often the rain and clouds have dispersed for a long time, but my heartbeat still cannot calm down.

Winter is coming, how I long for the prosperous summer to have a few heavy rains and let the bold music arouse the infinite passion in my heart! Write a composition

Listen to the rain

Lightning and thunder, flowers and trees, spring, summer, autumn and winter...these are the treasures given to us by nature. And among these treasures, I still like the sound of rain.

So, I fell in love with Tingyu. The rainy season throughout the year brings me different spiritual experiences.

Chun Yu is a quiet and elegant little girl. Du Fu's poem said: "Sneaking into the night with the wind, moistening things silently." The spring rain came quietly as the branches sprouted, and no one noticed it. But as long as you calm down on a quiet night, hold a cup of fragrant tea in your hand, and imagine such a picture in your mind: the earth is a piece of fine rice paper, and the spring rain lightly touches the paper, and the green will dim. The ground spreads out and covers the earth... At this time, the song "Spring River Flowers and Moonlight Night" outside the window rings in your ears: "..."

Xia Yu does not have such a good temper. . It was noisy, jumping, and falling in droves. It fell on the corrugations, the windows, the ground... and struck anything that could make a sound. The rhythmic sound seems to remind you: a rock party is about to begin! Then the wind roared and dark clouds filled the sky. In order to illuminate the venue, lightning was invited, and in an instant the night turned into day. When the stick in the conductor's hand moves, thousands of musicians start playing music. The momentum swallows up the bullfighting, vibrating your heart, and your heart can't help but stir up waves, making you completely sleepless.

Autumn has always been called golden autumn.

Then let’s call autumn rain golden rain! In the golden rain, everything fell into the lowest point of the year. The golden rain continued to fall, and although it brought a bit of chill, it also brought good news of a good harvest to the farmer's uncle. Sometimes looking at the rain outside the window, I can't help but draw a blueprint for life, and my thoughts are like a kite with a broken string...

Winter is cold and endless in people's hearts, but winter rain is gentle and kind. of. It falls slowly and slowly, removing the "white clothes" from the trees, washing the streets, and injecting vitality into the creek. It is a symbol of the arrival of spring.

Listen to the rain, listen with your heart, you can interpret the four seasons and realize the true meaning of life!

Spring Rain·Summer Rain

When it comes to rain, we know that it rains all year round, but I like spring rain and summer rain.

The rain in spring is so thin, like cow hair, like silver thread; the rain in spring is so soft, it floats on people's bodies, and people sometimes can't feel it. The spring rain is like a magician. When it falls on the grass, the grass turns green; when it falls on the flowers, the flowers bloom; when it falls on the trees, the trees sprout... The spring scenery becomes particularly beautiful in the magic wand of spring rain. . I like spring rain,

Summer rain is also indispensable. Summer rain is different from spring rain. How does summer rain come out? The weather was fine, but suddenly the sky turned dark and covered with dark clouds, and soon it started to rain heavily. The rain was falling so hard that it splashed water on the ground, which was so beautiful. The rain in summer doesn't last long. It stops soon and the sun comes out again. A colorful rainbow appears in the high sky, making the sky extraordinarily beautiful. I like summer rain.

I like spring rain and summer rain.

Rain

Rain is weak, the lightest thing in the world, and cannot knock the heavy reinforced concrete building. The tiled house is different. Raindrops tinkling on it and immediately make a pleasant sound. People in the hut have the blessing of being close to nature in the rain. When the rain falls rapidly, the sound becomes impassioned, like a hundred horses roaring in unison or ten thousand horses galloping. The rain slows down and the sound becomes weaker. It penetrates your heart gently, like the breeze in your ears in the warm spring. The tiles seem to be specially designed for the rain. They play their due diligence, and the hearts of those who listen to the rain are overflowing. Endless affection.

People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and sighing. The old man with lofty ideals has the ambition of "lying down at night listening to the wind and rain, and the iron horse glaciers coming to sleep"; the late beauty has the resentment of "the yellow-leafed tree in the rain, the white-headed man under the lamp"; the lovesick lover has the ambition of "the parasol tree is also drizzling, and at dusk ", bit by bit"; the sentimental poet has the reverie of "listening to the spring rain in a small building all night, selling apricot flowers in the deep alley in the Ming Dynasty".

Rain has become a messenger for people to modify their feelings and express their wishes.

In my spare time, I was fortunate enough to return to the place where I once listened to the rain. It happened to be a light rain that day, and I heard the familiar yet unfamiliar sound of rain again. In the mist, there was a strange mood in the sound of rain, the kind that we had not communicated with for a long time. It is thousands of miles away from me, showing me that it is unfamiliar to me, but I can feel the breath of its existence from the deepest part of my consciousness. I felt the joy of waking up from a dream and the sense of vicissitudes after being confused.

Oh, what I met in the sound of rain was actually my self that has been separated by time and space, and it was telling everything about my past. I was hesitant and asked myself: Who am I? Am I still the same person I was before?

There is a poem: "The young man is listening to the rain song upstairs, and the tent is dark with red candles. The mature man is listening to the rain in the boat, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are calling the west wind." Different life circumstances lead to different feelings about listening to the rain. However, listening to the rain is all about listening to the conversation of souls, listening to the rush of true love, and listening to the gurgling flow of time. What the sound of rain hits, apart from the echoes of the years, is also the unbearable regrets of the past and the melancholy that cannot be expressed. It seems that only in the gentle sound of rain on this tiled house can the soul breathe and life can continue.

The sound of rain is still ringing, like my real heartbeat...

Watching Rain in Summer

There is a lot of rain this summer. Whenever it rains, I can't help but lie on the window sill and watch the rain outside the window mesmerically (the word "memorably" is enough to express the author's love for Xia Yu).

This summer is really like a child’s face, changing at will. The sky was clear just a moment ago, but in the blink of an eye the clouds rolled towards the east, and the strong wind kept roaring. Then there was a flash of lightning, and the sky was split in half, and heartbreaking thunder rang out. After a while, the sky was covered with dark clouds, as if it was covered with a black gauze robe. Suddenly, the raindrops fell down like thousands of broken beads, making a slight "rustling" sound. (The words "Rain" have been refined in language and written in one go, describing the characteristics of summer rain, which is menacing and lightning-fast.) When it fell on the ground, it immediately turned into small water splashes. One flower scattered, and the other bloomed again, one by one. , so beautiful; when it falls on the soil, the soil sucks greedily; when it falls on the small flowers and grass, they raise their faces and kiss the raindrops; when it falls on... ("greedy", "sucking", "kissing" and other words describe the desire of all things in nature for rain)

Gradually, gradually, it rained down, the rain became heavier and heavier, and the rain became more rapid, as if it was a waterfall falling from the sky, slamming towards the earth. To pounce is to attack the earth. Finally, the rain poured into the world crazily, with overwhelming force.

The windows were rattled by raindrops. The whole city was shrouded in white rain.

After this continued for a few minutes, the dark clouds slowly dispersed, the sky gradually became brighter, and the rain gradually stopped, but the thunder continued to sound. I like watching rain in summer, it brings me endless fun and endless reverie.

Look, another burst of rain has arrived...

Appreciating the rain in the middle of the night

The dark night sky seems to have been prepared for a long time, and the summer rain that has been brewing for a long time has arrived belatedly. . Tiny raindrops fell from the sky without any rhythm, swaying in the wind. Uneven, discontinuous, traces, bursts, gradually, I heard its melody, which seemed to be its sigh. In an instant, it was so urgent, so urgent. Came with the sound of wind. I don’t know if the wind is too strong or the rain is too fast. The wind and rain always cooperate so seamlessly.

"The rain is about to come, and the wind is all over the building." The raindrops are coming with the wind, which is unstoppable. Feel the roar of the storm and listen to its angry and sad voice. Heavy raindrops fell from the sky and hit the windows, making a crisp sound. I feel it complaining in the dark. Is it crying for the night, or shouting for the dawn? unknown. I don’t know since when, the wind became cool and soft, and the rain also shed its last grace. The melody was so beautiful, the rhythm was so graceful, slow and orderly, adding color to the quiet night.

The rain comes in the wind and goes away with the wind, pattering intermittently, and leaves with a trace of nostalgia. Leave footprints for the wind, deep and shallow...

The wind stopped, and the rain also closed intermittently, seeming to make up for this reckless behavior. The wind comes and goes without a trace, and the rain always drifts and ripples with the wind, adding footprints to the wind's rapid pace. It rained so quickly! , at this time, the eyes were moist, the freshness and clarity had washed away the dust, and the wind took away everything that should not have come. Occasionally, you can hear the sound of rain under the eaves, and everything is calm and quiet again.

Dark night sky, dark rain...

As the months go by, the weather gets colder.

Tonight, it started to rain, and it fell from the high night sky. It fell to the ground and made a clear sound of water droplets; it flew to the window and pressed its body against the glass, stretching it very long. It's looking at you! It is greeting you with greetings! Suddenly, a wave of heat rushed to my heart, and an inexplicable impulse jumped into my mind. I thought about it so much, ran out the door, opened my arms, and embraced this messenger of nature.

It is gone, coming and going in a hurry, bringing warmth and brushing away the frustration.

It’s here again. What does it bring this time? Let me feel it more carefully! It flowed on my hair and face, and slowly slid to the ground, splashing a beautiful crystal flower. I know, I understand. This time, it brings me the vitality of life and infinite hope.

Outside the window, the rain pattered down, forming a beautiful ink painting like smoke and fog. The raindrops are neither as soft as cow hair nor as hard as flower needles. They fall in waves, little by little, as if they are not falling on the ground, but falling in my heart. In the autumn night, the remaining lights are turned off and the drizzle lingers. What a feeling of helplessness and sadness.

I sit in front of the window and listen to the smell of rain. It is a kind of enjoyment - an unparalleled, joyful, peaceful and natural beauty for the soul. Listen to the gentleness of the rain, the depth of the rain, the whisper of the rain, the roar of the rain, the smile of the rain, the singing, shouting and roaring of the rain. Rain is an elf in nature, and like humans, it is sentimental. I love the murmur of spring rain, the enthusiasm and unrestrainedness of summer rain, the sorrow and sadness of autumn rain, and the elegance and nobility of winter rain.

Listen to the rain, the rain is like a flower whispering to the ground, conveying a kind of longing, a blessing, a comfort, a ray of warmth. It is a ball of sacred fire, opening my dusty and silent heart. Door.

436 Respondents: The One-Armed Hero - Level 1 2010-3-15 19:33

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