"Such rainy nights, after this noisy summer, they will all disappear. But as long as you and I want, they will definitely come back in the near future. ”
After the second season of summer and autumn, in this cold winter wax moon, the night rain in summer has returned.
Fate is so wonderful, it is still raining on this day, but it is not as majestic as that day, but more like a silent gift from God to the world. It was still the original trio, and we walked all the way through the Garden Expo Park with umbrellas, quite like walking in the brick and stone lanes with oil-paper umbrellas.
The Garden Expo Park extends in all directions, with many branch paths, and my friend brother leads the way in front.
My friend and I praised him vigorously, "Mr. Gang is so good, facing a flat avenue and a bumpy stone ladder that climbs up, he decisively chose to climb." ”
The end of the stone staircase faces a tunnel. There is an illusion of entering a space-time tunnel in the tunnel, and at the end of the tunnel we see the daylight, and in the face of oncoming passers-by, we are not embarrassed to run, jump, laugh, capture, and freeze happiness in this tunnel for a short time.
If the Garden Expo Garden in spring is a cardamom girl with a heart, then in winter she is a twilight spring woman who still has charm after years. This season's Garden Expo Garden has the charm of a classical beauty, and the clouds and mist are like the thin face towel she wears, shy and restrained, like holding a pipa and half covering her face.
The scenery is as beautiful as an ink painting, and a friend suggests, "Let's compose a poem, one sentence per person." ”
Mr. Gang started first, "The smoke on the lake is rising." ”
I immediately followed, "The Red Boat is swimming in the water." ”
Friends pick up, "People have crossed the bridge." ”
I thought about it for a long time to no avail, and my friend suddenly picked up the last sentence, "I'm in a beautiful mood." ”
Another burst of laughter.
I joked that this poem doesn't sound good at first glance, but there is actually something in the poem. The smoke wave represents the obstacle, the red boat means the red boat, the red is the revolutionary predecessors, and the boat is the ferry. The Communist Party of China (CPC) is leading China forward as a ferryman, breaking through the fog and bringing prosperity.
My friends applauded, and I applauded my case, "I'm too patterned." ”
Listening to the lake under the rain bridge, we seem to be laughing, the lake ripples, and the lights in the lake shake together, and an unknown song comes to our ears, and the lake lights together form a ballet.
How can such a beautiful scenery not come and recite a poem? So the three of them began to think hard again.
The clouds are getting thicker and thicker, the distant singing is coming to an end, and we still haven't been able to improvise poetry.
The red boat passed under the bridge, carrying the heart of the fist, leaving this splendid mountain and river, and also witnessed the cultural dilemma of three pedestrians on the bridge facing the water and the sky but falling into the cultural dilemma of struggling to write poetry.
Osmanthus, winter wind, night rain, lights.
A glass of wine in the spring breeze of peach and plum, and ten years of night rain in the rivers and lakes. ”
Red boats, lakes.
The boat passed away, and the river and sea sent the rest of his life. ”
It is still Huang Tingjian and Su Shi, two great poets, who are talented.
Stop, stop, move on, it makes sense to just understand that you can't say anything.
The smoke and rain are misty, the lake is vast, the boats are moored, and the pedestrians are on the bridge, this is the Jiangnan of Chongqing.
Although it is late winter, there are always a few flowers standing in the cold wind, and my friends can't help but say, "The flowers are so beautiful." ”
I said, "Not as beautiful as you." ”
There was a black swan (still a crane) by the lake that stretched out its neck and pecked at the small leaves on the shore, and my friend said, "The black swan is so beautiful." ”
I said, "Not as beautiful as you." ”
Then my friend and I recited the poem, "Goose goose goose, song to the sky." The black hair floats in the green water, and the red anthurium plucks the clear waves. ”
Every outing, ** is essential. Gangzong became our exclusive photographer all the way.
* The friends in the room are like historical beauties, standing alone on the arched bridge and smiling at the camera, with clouds and mist behind them, and the moored boats can be vaguely seen. She seems to be out of step with the cold style around her, but she is well versed, adding a touch of warmth to the vast world.
Smiling, Guotai and Min'an.
And in the camera, I am more like I was born for this scene, smiling in Jiangnan, and the smoke and rain in Jiangnan are all my life.
Two **, the same scene, different colors. It seems to be a story that spans two centuries, and I feel like I am going to trace the old man and find her footprints.
Many years later, these two historical ** will become yellowed photos in memory, when the fingertips wipe off the dust, emerge a drizzle and gentle breeze in the deep winter season, a group of three people holding an umbrella that is not an oil-paper umbrella walking in the garden expo park like smoke and rain in the south of the Yangtze River laughing world.
It was the laughter of three teenagers.
Winter nights come too early, and gray and rainy days greet the night even earlier. Under the street lamp, in the twilight, the three of them returned leisurely and said goodbye to the Garden Expo Park in the lingering and gentle winter rain.
Postscript – Three later limerick poems.
Clouds and mist ethereal on the river, and flamingos on the water surface ripple.
People look at the scenery according to the bridge, and I think about the distance beside me.
Passengers in the cloud lake, red boats with lights.
The singing in the ears sounded, and people didn't want to go home.
Smoke rises on the lake, and red boats swim in the water.
I have been on the bridge, and I am in a beautiful mood.