I love to listen to the autumn rain all my life
Author: An Leisheng.
Look at the drizzle fisherman like a melodious and delicate web, watch the showers pouring down from the sky like a hanging river, the heart will be very happy and sunny, but listening to the rain is a more beautiful "encounter".
The young man listened to the rain song upstairs, and the red candles were dim. In the prime of life, listening to the rain in the passenger boat, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the geese are called the west wind. Now listening to the rain monk's house, the temples have ...... stars"Although I have forgotten who chanted these words, it is not difficult to see the Fang family's infatuated emotions for the rain and the realization of the vicissitudes of the world.
When I was a teenager, I lived in an old brick house on the shore of Jinqiu Lake on the North China Plain, and I wanted to come to the underworld to hoard in my heart, but the most pleasant thing I heard was the sound of wind and rain. The poetry and rain of spring sometimes whisper outside the window, sometimes float from the end of the field, sprinkle on the vegetable pine and moss of the old roof, knock on the sycamore leaves with peak vitality, kiss the leaves in front of the pond, embrace into the endless reeds, and also comfort my tender dreams. Sometimes it brings joy, sometimes it shows melancholy, sometimes it squeezes melancholy, sometimes it pulls up reverie, and sometimes it knocks out cold silence. The wind and rain in the house are wrapped in the rain lock, and the sound of the wind and rain comes with the fragrance of grass and flowers, which makes people feel that the mood is smooth, vast, verdant, prosperous, and pleasant, so that I deeply feel the agility and blessing of nature, and the sound of the rain has naturally become a wonderful sound in memory.
I often think like this when I am free: it is impossible for life to have no rainy season, the steps are dripping, the peach orchard is dashing, the rain falls in the willow forest, and the smoke and rain will come suddenly, and the geometric rainy season can be withstood during the life period, and how many rainy seasons can be escaped? A folding umbrella can hold up a clear sky, but that's only temporary, or simply throw it away, lick the fragrant rain, follow it, be honest, even if the wind and rain come, it is also a scenery that can be met but not sought.
Oh, the most unforgettable hometown pink lotus! Every summer, the sand in the pond of Yanyuwan, the clear waves are rippling, the lotus leaves are gently swaying in the wind, and the posture is thousands. Seven or eight beautiful waterfowl, dressed in brown and red boots, chirping and dancing. Some of them take a rest in the depths of the lotus leaves, some stand on the bow and reed to recuperate, some stretch their wings and cut the surface of the lake, some scratch their heads and make feathers to attract their companions, and some hunt fish and shrimp in semi-diving. If the sky is beautiful, you can also enjoy the "clucking" and "quacking" mischievous and playful ...... of lotus frogs in the shower
I love listening quietly by the lotus pond on a rainy day. In the darkness, ten thousand lotus gathered, many fascinating beautiful myths jumped out from there, the intoxicating lotus fragrance was permeated, as if the whole world had become a classic ** garden, staining my thoughts Zhong Lingyuxiu, Yan Yun fluttering, Jiawu gasping, trance. Between the hazy lotus leaves, it seems that an angel has descended, smiling and talking to you, how intoxicating the abundance of lotus is at this time! It's so beautiful that it makes people feel distressed, and it's so beautiful that it turns back time.
Immersed in the sound of the rain, holding your breath to listen to the grace of the big beads and small beads falling on the jade plate, so, in the noisy atmosphere, a fairy world of Fangyuan, into the rain concerto of the colorful movement, the melody of flowing gold is high and quiet, synchronized with your pulse, thinking at the same frequency, and language with the same rhythm; Let your blood boil gradually, your inspiration burst out, and your spirit will be sublimated. The soul follows the noble elegance of the lotus to the pure and lofty to heaven, and the troubles disappear like floating dust. Poetic travel, warm feeling and order completely occupy us.
A few years later, I went to Wantou Village, Hubin Town, where I was looking for her in my dreams, to relive the confusion and treachery of the rainy night, and to comb the green silk in Yi An's chest. The sound of rain, dripping and dripping, is still far away outside the vast lake, but in an instant, it is overwhelming, and it is so fast that people are caught off guard. Hit on the two tall European and American poplars in front of the house, pumped on the hard and smooth bluestone slabs of the patio, sewn the whole night sky like a hemp forest, and the sound of the rain became a piece, the rain borrowed the wind, the wind helped the rain, and then, as if the waves were raging, the waves were rushing, as if nothing existed except the sound of the rain waterfall and the rain. In such a majestic and rugged rainy atmosphere, I heard the sound of corn jointing and mulberry transmutation in the northern land, and I inherited the entrustment of Longzhong's old father Yin Qi, and I realized that I was originally a passer-by. Thinking of transcendence but unable to get rid of the world, only then do you understand what kind of plant you are and what kind of hot soil you are rooted in.
I am deeply aware that my life is inseparable from Jinqiu Lake. Today, I still listen to the rain, and the rain gently bounces on the glass of my balcony, but it is difficult to taste the smell of the past. Although I have moved to the fifth floor in a corner of the county, the logic of the dream still tells me that the spirit seed is inseparable from **. Although the character, rhythm and breath of the rain are still the same as when they were in their hometown, there is no change, and the youth is far away, the old house is no more, and the mood is not what it used to be. In the sound of the rain, what is inexhaustible is my infinite attachment to my hometown, the memories of the past years and the deceased relatives and neighbors, and the longing for tomorrow, and perhaps a little helplessness to suffer silently.
The Writer, December 5, 2011).