In this spring season. Chunyu doesn't need my invitation. I know that rain comes for spring green, but not for me.
The flowing water of the eaves fell with the window sill and made a ticking sound, just like the sound of the basin-mounted water in a leaking house. I can't help but think of living with my father in the era of poverty, the old house with rain, the low tiled house. Every time it rains, God always causes my father and Dong to hide in Tibet. When the tile house always encounters too leaky, my father always finds all kinds of washbasins and basins and puts them in the most important place. I can always hear my father's helpless sigh-"God, I think it's going to destroy people."
Now the old house is no longer there, it just appears faintly in my rain, and I have never heard my father say that again for many years.
The raindrops splashing on the windowsill dampened my placket, and the cool rain silk caressed my thin face, and I still didn't want to close the window. This is a piece of music that reminds me of my childhood. How can I have the heart to hide it out of the window.
The raindrops outside the window resembled the grandma's whisper. I haven't heard grandma's voice for three months. It wasn't grandma who stopped nagging, but I wasn't beside her. The ticking rain sounded like a rush to my heart.
Looking into the distance of my hometown, my grandmother's shame will not stop, and my thoughts will always follow in my dreams.
"Is it raining in my country?"
"Grandma, did you forget to put away the clothes you dried yesterday?" ，
Actually, this can't blame my grandma. There are many things she can't remember immediately, but she won't remember soon.
As people get older, memory will fade away. Fortunately, people will have such a "fault" when they get old, otherwise how can grandma bear the heartache I miss. I know you will never forget me, but it is hard to remember me for a while.
This spring rain was so busy and cheerful under the window. It is like a pearl trace, and it is like silver sand. Coming from heaven, the world outside the window.
In the depth of heavy rain, there are many figures of umbrellas drifting and water curtains of cars sailing all the way. The unique beauty of these cities is not always visible, nor is it every day.
No matter how passionate Ren Yu is, I can't get my mood wet, it just makes my eyes fresher and the world spotless.
I don't want to walk out the door, I just want to enjoy the scenery alone.
I really hope that this spring rain will get bigger and stronger, swim with the wind, and swim towards the mountains of my hometown, making the verdant red and green mountains more charming;
I prefer this spring rain to be able to get bigger and bigger, flowing at will, and flowing towards the river that was dry last winter in my hometown, so that the fish can grow happier and have a more free world;
I originally thought that this spring rain could get bigger and bigger, and as I missed sleepwalking, I swam to the wide fields of my hometown, making the home village more robust.
I like spring rain, but I prefer the beautiful Jiangnan in spring, and my hometown on the bank of Poyang Lake-the azaleas are already full of the red, green and green mountains of Wushan.
The mountains and wild fires burned the clouds, and the clusters of delicate red flowers depended on each other, like the lover's shameful face, easy to get drunk and shy, attracting bees and butterflies flying. I am an unknown orchid under a rhododendron. My original fragrance can be heard by everyone.
The ancient trees are pines, and they are striving hard to reach the upper reaches of the earth. They do not fold for everyone. How many villages and buildings are built by the mountains and rivers.
During the rainy season in this valley, the village aunts and peasant women who have picked tea a lot, for her lover and son far away, can taste a good Qingxianggu rain tea from her hometown, and walk in the morning dew on the mountain Wushan. Regardless of the clothes wet with dew, she only thought about her lover and son.
How many misses are busy in her hands, how many tears of love and joy are wet her eyes, and miss is also a topic she can never say.
This is a color picture of Chinese ink painting. How many travellers can't bear to look back, just dreaming about the nostalgia of the soul.
——Can I miss my hometown?
How many young couples are there for their children, for the elderly in the family, to adapt to the co-prosperity of the Greater China economy, and for this heavy burden of life, how many peasant families have chosen to separate the two places.
I only understand that the children who stayed in the village can understand that your father is not the most ruthless father in the world. Because of his affection, he chose to face alone, leaving you to rely on you.
The rain, the more it rained, the more it seemed to be what I wished.
Looking at the dark clouds rolling in the sky, the source of heavy rain. Where is it really the paradise where the gods live, and whether the month old is hiding in it, and I can't bear to see the farewell of Cowherd and Weaver Girl on earth. The hands of the month-old must be covering your promises from my past life to this life.
I really want Chunyu to take my greetings to Yue Lao and make a blessing for the next life.
I'm like the umbrella in the rain, never give up in your hands; more like the orchid under the rhododendron, I wish my heart will last forever, and I will go with you forever; I am also the tea in your hands, the love of a loving mother!
It is another spring rain, how many years have passed, how much youth has been stretched, and how much has been baptized.
I'm still watching, the curtain of water in the distance, I miss the distant road ...