Day quiet and peaceful, just like water flowing quietly every day. Years of wind will be four page one one to read, in the twinkling of an eye, but also to the grain in ear season. At dusk, I walk to the suburbs, the golden wheat roll, a bumper harvest in sight of the beautiful scene. Can't help being a farmer friends delighted if crazy, because from the long in the countryside, the rural land very dear. A year has two seasons of good times, one is the harvest, but the harvest. The crops are the lifeblood of the people, this year's hard work and sweat and expectations, are spread in this land. So, each to this season, people will be particularly concerned about, look forward to good weather, to the warehouse particles.

Think of it, the sky suddenly overcast, the wind seems to aquatic, the rain is coming. I hurry in a hurry, I still not back to the house.

Sure enough, underground xixilili rain. But in her heart, has long looked forward to a rain to wet, memory, diffuse heart lake bank, make the time of loneliness and Qing xi.

Like such a rainy night, quiet and Enron, the most suitable silently alone I, listen to the rain, regard with equanimity. The days are always so don't slow, neither fast nor slow, not cold nor warm, mixed, is like a rain of the night. So dull, quiet to surprisingly, plain tasteless, perhaps, this is the life of the original flavor. Across the window, watching the rain on the leaves, after the baptism of rain, a tree green is more delicate, a wild profusion of vegetation, dense curtain hazy poetry!

Gaze, meditation, listen carefully, rain leaves sound, a cool comfortable, directly to the heart. This time, we can clearly remember yourself, also can be deep in silence, will forget the moment.

A window a quiet, rain, cool.

A curtain of rain, wet my memory, I stand in the rain, slowly combing messy thoughts, the fleeting time passing, one one recovered. Those lost in the rain of story, now shallow resting in where?

"The rain wet clothes invisible, Xianhua fall silent to listen." The drizzle and idle, always with the lonely together. Apricot, misty rain, Jiangnan, a thousand years of oil paper umbrella, with a hint of sadness, swaying in the quartzite deep alley, lingering drizzle, I do not know how many ancient falling continuous yearning? Blurred yilianyoumeng many people? Dim the live many stupid I dream?

"Wind sudden rain last night, slept less than the residual alcohol concentration. How blind people, but still Begonia road. You know, you know? Should be flourishing leaves and withering flowers... "In such a quiet night, will can't help remember this song with Li Qingzhao's poem. Poets through the Jiuyi disappeared, ask all the screens, but still Begonia Road, while the female poet but clear answer: should be the flourishing leaves and withering flowers. How sweet the Artistic Conception!

And that the first "slow - searching", "searching, desolate, qiqicancan full. How hard is it to keep me fit in this lingering cold! Hardly warmed up by cup on cup of wine so dry, fend off a rush of wind in late hours. As wild geese flew by, in sorrow I dwelled, and remembered how I had seen them before. Rehmannia glutinosa take deposits. Gaunt man loss, now who can pick. By the window I pined, In solitude how could I while away the day till darkness arrived? At twilight, drizzle through phoenix trees fell, drips dribbled and tears rolled. In fall, how could sorrow possibly spell a melancholic overflow!

A searching, qiqicancan full, Indus Gengjian drizzle, shows how much SWEPT AWAY? How much time reading this poem, can be overcome by one's feelings more immersed in the female master, deeply felt desolate!有愛的日子 奮發向上 記憶 時光越去越遠 記憶越來越淡