Rain, like silver-gray sticky spider silk, weaves a soft net and nets the whole autumn world. The sky is dark, too, like the roof of an old house covered with cobwebs. The pile of gray clouds in the sky is like white powder peeling off the roof. Under the cover of this old roof, everything looks extremely dull. Old durian, mulberry and grapevine are in the garden. They all represent the prosperity of the past summer, and now they have become the remains of ancient Roman architecture, shivering in the rustling rain and recalling the glorious past. The color of grass has turned into melancholy yellow, and fresh flowers can no longer be found underground; The delicate daffodils planted outside the dormitory wall hung their heads with tears in their eyes, lamenting their bad luck there. It was only two sunny days and such a moldy rainy day. Only the sweet-scented osmanthus in the corner, the branches have been decorated with several precious buds as gold, carefully hidden under the green oval leaves, revealing a little hope of new life germination.
It's raining quietly, only the thin sound of rain. The orange-red house, like an old monk in a bright cassock, was baptized by the rain with his head down and his eyes closed. The wet red brick exudes exciting pig blood, which is in sharp contrast with the green laurel leaves under the wall. Gray toad, jumping in the wet and moldy mud; Under the gloomy net of autumn rain, it is the only thing full of joy and life. The mottled gray-yellow pattern on its back corresponds to the dreary sky in the distance, resulting in a harmonious tone. It jumped up, jumped from the grass nest into the mud, and measured the dark green spray.
Rain, like silver-gray sticky spider silk, weaves a soft web and nets the whole autumn world.
Xinding quandong
Everyone has a clear spring in his heart, which washes your soul and nourishes your life. Just because of the complexity of daily trivial life, it masks her beautiful voice and blurs her clarity and transparency.
The night is quiet, and nature is silent. At this moment, you can remove the heavy mask, remove the fence of the heart garden and really look at yourself. In the depths of life, you finally hear a leisurely and crisp voice. This is a poem of truth, goodness and beauty. Like a shower, like a spring breeze, soft and meaningful.
The moon is hidden and the stars are present, and the wind is light. At this time, you can face up to your naked conscience and get out of the secular fan box. At the height of your soul, you finally feel an inevitable rhythm. This is a true, good and beautiful song! Like the bright moon, like the autumn sun, indifferent and quiet.
When traveling against the wind, whenever you look back at the bumps and mud behind you, your heart will suddenly swell up ... finally you realize that life doesn't believe in tears, and failure doesn't mean killing success! There is no eternal luck in the world to make you complacent forever. What are the eternal misfortunes in the world to make you miserable forever?
The glory of life is not ordinary, but mediocre! So think more about when the spring breeze is proud, as long as you don't betray the original intention of beauty; When you are embarrassed and frustrated, look forward to it a little more, as long as you don't make up a bitter dream that you don't wake up!
Put out jealousy like fire with your heart, wash away vanity like dust with your heart, and life will be infinitely relaxed. Whispering hearts clearly tell you that people's hearts are not as sinister as you think, and life is not as gloomy and heavy as you render!
Stay away from despicable fights, avoid worldly disputes, approach Ding Dong's heart and listen to Ding Dong's heart. ...
rain
Rain is weak and the lightest thing in the world. It can't knock down heavy reinforced concrete buildings. And the tile house, with raindrops on it, jingled and immediately made a pleasant sound. People who live in huts are also blessed to be close to nature in the rain. When the rain is sudden, the sound is generous and violent, just like hundreds of horses singing together, Malik gallops. As the rain slows down, the sound becomes weaker and seeps into your heart gently, like the breeze in your ear in warm spring. These tiles seem to be specially laid for rain. They play dutifully, and the hearts of those who listen to the rain will overflow with endless affection.
People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and regret. The old people have the ambition of "lying in the middle of the night listening to the wind and rain and dreaming of the iron horse glacier"; Dying beauty has the bitterness of "raindrops brighten yellow leaves and lights illuminate my bald head"; Acacia lovers have the vision of "the phoenix tree is raining, and it will drop at dusk"; Affectionate poets have the daydream that "the small building listens to the spring rain all night, and the deep alley sells apricot flowers."
Rain has become an emissary for people to decorate their feelings and place their wishes.
In my spare time, I was lucky enough to go back to the place where I used to listen to the rain. It happened to be raining lightly that day, and I heard the familiar and unfamiliar sound of rain. In the mist, there is a strange mood in the rain, and we haven't communicated for a long time. It keeps me away and shows me that it is strange to me, but I can feel the breath of its existence from the deepest part of my consciousness. There is a sense of carefree waking from a dream and a sense of vicissitudes after confusion.
Oh, what I met in the rain was the self separated from time and space, and it was telling me everything before. I hesitated. I asked myself: Who am I? Still the old me?
There is a saying: "Young people listen to singing on the rainy floor, and the red candle is faint." In the prime of life, the boat is listening to the rain, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are called the west wind. "Different life situations make people feel different when listening to the rain. However, listening to the rain is all about listening to the dialogue of the soul, listening to the flow of true feelings and listening to the flow of years. In addition to the echo of the years, the sound of rain also brings regrets of the past and melancholy that I want to talk about again. It seems that only in the light rain of this tile house can the soul breathe and life continue.
The rain is still ringing, just like my real heartbeat. ...
A grateful heart
Fallen leaves hover in the air, composing a movement of gratitude, which is the gratitude of the tree to the earth that nourishes it; Baiyun floats in the blue sky, drawing pictures of people, which is Baiyun's gratitude to the blue sky that raised it. Because of gratitude, there will be this colorful society, and because of gratitude, there will be sincere friendship. Because of gratitude, we understand the true meaning of life-inscription.
From the baby's "wow" fall to feeding him to grow up, how much effort and sweat the parents spent and how many days and nights they knitted; From elementary school to junior high school, even to university, how many teachers have worked hard for him, silently dedicated light and heat, burning themselves and illuminating others.
Gratitude is from the heart. As the saying goes, "the grace of dripping water is rewarded by the spring." What's more, parents, relatives and friends pay you not only a drop of water, but a piece of Wang Yang sea. Whether you give your parents a cup of warm tea after they are tired, or give them a card on their birthday, or give them some greetings and comfort when they are lost, they often pour their efforts and energy into us. How can we remember their birthdays, understand their fatigue, and whether we are aware of the wisps of silver and wrinkles? Gratitude requires you to feel and return with your heart.
Gratitude is respect. As a famous scientist, Madame Curie won the Nobel Prize twice, but she met her primary school teacher at the meeting and thanked her with a bunch of flowers. The great man Mao Zedong also expressed his deep gratitude to his teacher during the festival. Great men since ancient times have a grateful heart. Gratitude does not need to be earth-shattering, just a greeting, a call and a touch of emotion from you.
Gratitude is meaningful. Love makes the world go round. Parents' efforts are far higher than mountains and deeper than the sea, but as us, we only know how to ask for food and clothes. It seems that there is another isolation zone, which makes us selfish, forgetting the parents' efforts and the sound of happiness. Learning to appreciate others is a kind of conscience and filial piety, because only in this way can there be harmony, happiness and mutual respect.
With a grateful heart, look at the society, parents and relatives, and you will find how happy you are. Let go of your mind and let the drizzle wash away the pollution in your heart. Learn to be grateful, because it will make the world better and life more fulfilling.
Life is not a rehearsal.
It is easy for us to waste our lives, wasting every day, every hour and every minute. It is easy to ignore the color of children's eyes and the ups and downs of indifferent symphony melody. ...
Create a life, a real life, instead of frantically pursuing promotion, higher salary and bigger house again and again.
Create a life that is not lonely, and seek the people you love and those who love you. Remember: love is not leisure, but work. Make a phone call, send an email, write a letter, and create a generous life.
You should know that the best thing is life, and you can't take it for granted.
It is easy for us to waste our lives, wasting every day, every hour and every minute. It is easy for us to ignore the color of children's eyes. The indifferent symphony is due to the ups and downs of melody.
It is easy for us to live, but difficult to live.
Many years ago, I learned to live. I met a great misfortune, which changed my life. If I had had a choice, these changes would not have happened at all. I have learned the most unforgettable lesson so far.
I learned to love the journey, not the destination. I've learned that life is not a rehearsal. Today is the only thing you can grasp.
I learned to see all the beauty in the world and try to give it back to others, because I sincerely believe in beauty. I do this partly because I want to tell others how I feel, and tell them: think of the lilies in the field, look at the fluff on the baby's ears, read in the backyard, and let the sun shine on your cheeks. Learn to be happy.
Suppose your life is in the terminal stage of cancer. Because you do this, you will make your life full of joy and passion. This is the true nature of life.
moonlight
At night, just after dark, dense fog filled the air, which affected a calm and peaceful night. Under the soft moonlight and street lamps, the white fog was dyed golden yellow. In the moonlight, the leaves rustle, as if playing a moonlight song, graceful and beautiful, deep and beautiful, and the beating notes seem to jump out of the hazy moonlight, which is intoxicating.
It's late at night, the countryside is hazy, the mountain shadows are falling, the water is dissolved, fireflies are lit, and candles are lit. What a beautiful picture under the moon!
Life is like moonlight, like a picture scroll! The beating melody interprets the joys and sorrows of life. Life is too short to be like moonlight.
At noon on the moon, it is bright and gentle, and the soft moonlight sets off a calm and peaceful night. The moonlight falls on the branches, leaving mottled shadows scattered on the branches like broken strips.
Everything in the world is God's creation, which is very harmonious, but the moon is different. The moon has its own personality, and its charm is reflected here. Why should the new moon win glory? Her purpose is to make the night no longer terrible and send people a warmth and a light!
Isn't that what people do? Don't some people contribute to others in obscurity like the moon? Although it is only a small matter, we will feel a little warm to each other, which is the connotation of the month.
Night, has been silent. The moon quietly shed its afterglow, trying to drive away the darkness and bring light, warmth and care to people!
The moon is accompanied by cold.
Whenever the moon sets in the west, I always want to say to it: go to bed early. You and I spent a long night. With your waiting, it is obvious that I will no longer be lonely. Soft moon waves flow in the fog. You often create a quiet atmosphere for me, hoping that I can sleep peacefully, but the result is "the moon is swaying lightly, and I don't feel the sky is far away." Your silence always makes me wonder, don't you also have the wound of "unrequited love, hard to open your lips and teeth" The sky is boundless, the frost is left alone, the water is flowing and the rhyme is moving. The thin clouds are still there, and the wind touches your heartstrings, and there is a bleak whisper. What you expect is your bosom friend, you don't need to say it in a thousand words. The light in one corner is enough. Even if you weep your sleeves sadly, you will be like a bean, because "he" is enjoying the same feeling.
The secret pain of the soul has long been unknown. Under the gentle comfort of the years, it has not faded, but it has been hooked. It's hard to break up and forget. Rivers and rivers are shallow, with many differences and full of water.
Sometimes, I am really tired and think I can have a rest, but my wish is dashed in reality. Night after night.
Stupidity is not the ridicule of others, but my own lament. So is the moon, and so am I. At dawn, he gradually disappeared. On the moon, willows sprouted and vowed to stay. Shadows drift away, only sigh and never look back.
Month, still waiting.
It's clear autumn, I feel it, and your heartstrings are chaotic again, so it's hard to calm down. Looking at the frost on the temple of the moon, I suspected that it was hidden in the jade floc, but I was silent, and the night was still early.
Accompany you, accompany you, you don't say, I understand. No matter how long the night is.
The sad person is alone in the dark, and the lonely lamp is crying in the cold room, but if you ask how sad you are, you will know that the night is short and long.
Forest overture
I can't remember where it is, but the scenery there does have an indescribable charm. A stream gurgled out of the valley, and colorful streams flowed quietly under your feet. If this color is made up of withered flowers and fallen leaves. Bend down, immerse your hands in the water and lift them slowly. Crystal clear water will overflow your hands and then unconsciously escape through your fingers. At this time, if you smell it with your hand, a wisp of fragrance will be caught by your nose, mixed with the smell of wild flowers. Pay close attention, if you are lucky, you will find that a mountain flower is still fresh and still blooming with wet stamens. In this godsend journey, the dust on jade has already been washed away, and it should be as holy and simple as Furong.
Through the clear stream, you can easily see the pebbles embedded in the river bank, round and shining. This unparalleled technology is perfect. Take it in your hand and feel it carefully. There is some coolness that seeps into your palm and slowly tightens your palm. It is indescribable smooth, because it skillfully fits your hand, leaving no gaps and dense tolerance, so that your hand and stone are integrated, and you can't feel its existence, just like clenching your fist. Inadvertently relaxed, pebbles disappeared in an instant. Poof, it fell into the stream, splashing and falling into the water with a fallen flower. The delicate sand was stirred up, suspended in the water, and hung red in it, then gradually subsided and the water surface returned to calm. But this flower stayed here, and she was lucky. The days of drifting with the flow were over, and it was still a good shelter.
The breeze brushed the dripping hand of the stream, and suddenly I felt infinite comfort, long-lost beauty, listening to the trickle of running water and the trembling of the maple forest. Isn't this the sound of nature? I don't know where the stream comes from, and this addictive music is playing endlessly.
On the other side of the stream is a dense forest. Several rotten trunks are full of fungi and full of vitality. Grey tits are eating at will. This may be rebirth. Obviously, squirrels are everywhere, and the fruits under the pine cones are sparsely left there. As long as I heard a little noise, a pine nut was taken out, and the action was very agile, followed by silence. Looking intently, it turned out that the squirrel was looking at himself and his steps had just moved. His figure is already on a branch a few feet high.
The afterglow of the sun faded away, so I said goodbye for the time being.
The moon is accompanied by cold.
Whenever the moon sets in the west, I always want to say to it: go to bed early. You and I spent a long night. With your waiting, it is obvious that I will no longer be lonely. Soft moon waves flow in the fog. You often create a quiet atmosphere for me, hoping that I can sleep peacefully, but the result is "the moon is swaying lightly, and I don't feel the sky is far away." Your silence always makes me wonder, don't you also have the wound of "unrequited love, hard to open your lips and teeth" The sky is boundless, the frost is left alone, the water is flowing and the rhyme is moving. The thin clouds are still there, and the wind touches your heartstrings, and there is a bleak whisper. What you expect is your bosom friend, you don't need to say it in a thousand words. The light in one corner is enough. Even if you weep your sleeves sadly, you will be like a bean, because "he" is enjoying the same feeling.
The secret pain of the soul has long been unknown. Under the gentle comfort of the years, it has not faded, but it has been hooked. It's hard to break up and forget. Rivers and rivers are shallow, with many differences and full of water.
Sometimes, I am really tired and think I can have a rest, but my wish is dashed in reality. Night after night.
Stupidity is not the ridicule of others, but my own lament. So is the moon, and so am I. At dawn, he gradually disappeared. On the moon, willows sprouted and vowed to stay. Shadows drift away, only sigh and never look back.
Month, still waiting.
It's clear autumn, I feel it, and your heartstrings are chaotic again, so it's hard to calm down. Looking at the frost on the temple of the moon, I suspected that it was hidden in the jade floc, but I was silent, and the night was still early.
Accompany you, accompany you, you don't say, I understand. No matter how long the night is.
The sad person is alone in the dark, and the lonely lamp is crying in the cold room, but if you ask how sad you are, you will know that the night is short and long.
Juan Lian Xin Yu
Midnight breeze, the shutter door is moving, the moon is dancing, and the window sash is lightly covered. All is silent, only the candlelight is dancing, the tea in the cup is cold, and the faint fragrance of tea still lingers at the mouth of the cup. I took a sip of my thin lips and felt bitter, but I couldn't help swallowing it, but it turned into a sweet stream in my throat. It's another full moon in the sky. Yin Hui is everywhere, and the cold dew among the leaves is crystal clear. You have been here all night, and when the dew slowly flows through the leaves, you will carefully collect it drop by drop. I don't understand, ask, you laugh, Mid-Autumn Festival essence is ready to make tea.
Water drops converge, jade beads hang, suddenly fall and fall apart. The wind blew the green leaves, and the dew rained down, flying over one after another, wetting the cotton felt and infiltrating the blue. The dew that can't be picked is like the tears that can't be wiped away, not for the full moon, but for parting with you. When people are gone, the fragrance is still there; The tea is cold, but the feeling remains the same; Lonely in front of the candle, I still miss you; The bronze mirror has no capacity, and the eyebrows are still frowning; Harp, still elegant; Between cases, the beautiful image remains unchanged.
My heart is like a lilac in the rain, swaying in the cold wind, with a trace of melancholy. Only a touch of purple lingers in the dream. In a blink of an eye, the moon has set in the west, and the candlelight has gone out. I feel dim and my face is beautiful, and I can't get rid of it. That's wet dream's memory.
Between you and me, like jasmine petals brewed in boiling water, we rise and fall in the cup and meet briefly, but if we want to be long-term, it will be difficult to return.
Think of a wonderful poem & gt surrounded by Tsing Yi, beautiful and pure. And the moon is the gentlest, so I can love Fang, I am also elegant, I will leave you, but I don't want to worry. Immersed in water, passionate, and fragrant at the bottom of the cup.
Long-lost leisure is always like Xijiang autumn moon and the moon is like a hook. It is difficult to turn back when you are reminded of your worries.
The ensemble flute has a long rhyme and a lingering sound, just waiting for the axis to turn and the moon to hide in the west building.
Beginner set language
Finally, it's done. Because of the unexpected arrival of Cher, the charm of winter is fully displayed.
The night is deep, and dim street lamps are lit in the distance. The fog on the glass makes the line of sight dim, and everything is like a foggy surface, mysterious and illusory. In fact, the night just needs to have a looming charm.
Fingers are naughty like writing snow in the fog, transparent notes are like hollowed-out marks, and hazy corners are rare and thorough. It was such a casual action that made me realize the most precious thing that night.
It's snowing, really. I've never felt sorry for snow before. When I couldn't wait to open the window, it flew all over the sky and came quietly ... and then my mind went blank. If I say what I feel at this moment, it may be warmth. Without warning, they came together and walked at a brisk pace. In this way, the team came one after another, covering the earth and full of vision. Heaven and earth are integrated, there are no mountains and waves, and the Tianhe River is reflected in white practice.
The snow in front of us is not like goose feathers, but it is much smaller. Under the action of the wind, they fall freely. Sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, their graceful dances inadvertently outlined the trajectory of the cold wind. Maybe it's because I interrupted their costume party. Suddenly a gust of wind blew at us. When the wind blows over my cheek, crystal snowflakes fall on my face, which is very soft and cool. Its meeting with me seems to be playing a trick on me. When I touch them, they disappear, leaving only faint traces of water, and then they often reappear. You can't appreciate it, because when you touch it, its soul will go to nirvana, leaving only its body. Helpless cold made me subconsciously close the window and reluctantly quit the dance.
Its rotation is so elegant, its pace is so light, and it is covered in silver, just like a dancing ballet dancer. Under a shadow lamp, there is a dreamlike "Swan Lake". Although their dance is short-lived, every wonderful moment is unforgettable. They are like meteors in the night sky, explaining what is perfect again and again.
The snowy road is like the flip of a pistil with ten thousand petals, which is layered and integrated, so you can't bear to trample on it and defile this purity. Snowy night, like a vacuum crystal bottle, is full of affection and silence, which makes you hold your breath to find the sound of snow. Only one note can touch your heartstrings.
I really hope the snow will continue to drift, because of your beauty and your romance.
Hope to be happy.