1. Write a 200-word essay with the title "Listen to the Sound of Rain"
Listen to the Sound of Rain
The misty rain always feels very poetic , also has dreams.
I like rain, I like watching rain, and I like listening to rain even more.
The pouring rain is like the noisy bullets, big and small beads falling on a jade plate, tinkling, tinkling, crisp and pleasant.
Sometimes, the sound of rain can make my heart calm and stable. The rushing rain washes the world and washes away the dust and depression in my heart, making me feel relaxed and happy.
On a rainy day, the sound of pounding rain accompanies the laughter and laughter of a family, and the accompaniment of the clanking of pots, dishes, and bowls when the family starts cooking becomes a song. The symphony is so harmonious and feels so warm. If there is no sound of rain, there will be no taste.
On rainy days, there is a bit of coolness. I always want to lie in bed and fall asleep under the hypnotic sound of the rain. I feel so safe and solid. When I wake up, there are still the sounds of rain, or the sound of rain. The freshness of a sunny day is so beautiful and comfortable.
I just want to listen to the sound of raindrops quietly, I just want to read my favorite book quietly with the sound of rain, I just want to play my favorite melody with the sound of rain. All of this was so leisurely that one could not bear to break her tranquility and peace.
The sound of rain can make my heart peaceful and quiet, but the rain can also attract people's infinite thoughts and evoke infinite sadness. The past is hard to look back on.
Lin Daiyu once wrote: The autumn window has already felt that autumn will never end, how can the autumn rain help the desolation.
Sometimes, when people have something on their minds, listening to the rain makes them feel melancholy and sad.
"The sycamore tree, the rain in the middle of the night, is inseparable from love and suffering. Every leaf, every sound, the empty steps drip into the light."
The air is filled with this accelerating breath. , all kinds of emotions and sorrows in life, in a daze, the fog is locked in the smoke, accompanied by the sound of rain, chanting a curtain of dreamy mist and rain, holding an oil-paper umbrella in hand, wandering in the alley, wet thoughts seeping into the bottom of my heart .
I always miss the people of the past, always lament the fragility of life, and always lament the impermanence of life. The rain that urges flowers to bloom, tick-tock-tock, beats the sentimental mood day by day. How many memories are scattered and drifting away with the wind and rain? How can we not make people sigh?
The sound of rain conveys the voice of the heart, which contains both joy and sadness.
I just want to hear the sound of rain, how wonderful it is! It is poetic and full of spirituality. 2. Listen to the Sound of Rain Composition 600 words
Article 1 sends away the last cold wave of winter, and the spring rain will always come as promised.
The ingredients are steep and dripping. The wind is gentle, the rain is falling, and in the long alleys and short alleys of Jiangnan, there are lavender lilac women holding oil-paper umbrellas, a dense ink painting.
The word "smoke" is vivid and just right, capturing the charm of the spring rain in the south of the Yangtze River. Thinking of the ancient saying "Fireworks descend in Yangzhou in March", the word "smoke" should refer to the rain in March in the south of the Yangtze River.
As I thought about it, the rain felt a little warm. The willow buds, peach blossoms, and pink apricots all came in response to the call, shaking off the laziness of the winter, and taking a baptism first, giving them a brand new beauty and freshness.
Squeeze up the branches, show off your feelings, and then express your thoughts that have been accumulated for a whole season. The room is warm.
It is raining outside the window. He stretched out his hand and drew the word "rain" on the dim window, dots and drops.
Did Cangjie’s inspiration come from this visual experience? The spirit of Chinese characters is eternal. Pounding and tossing, all the clouds and rain are already in the words, and all the words are suspected of being pale, just the word "rain" is enough.
The patter and patter of rain penetrate into people's bodies, making it difficult to breathe. Then the heart will become wet, like unfinished rice paper that has been splashed and smudged.
Unknowingly, Wuming’s thoughts had begun a soaring journey. The memory of listening to the rain originated from the sound of rain on the tiled roofs of my childhood hometown.
The raindrops hit the tiles, making a crisp sound. Thousands of black and gray tiles replaced the black and white keys, and the raindrops made a broken noise, gentle murmurs, and rhythmic breathing, from far to near, and then from near to far.
"Big beads and small beads fall on the jade plate", I read it and understood it, but it originated from this. In the trance, I can still see thousands of dots, which merge into wisps and strings, gurgling down from the eaves, splashing small water splashes, rippling in circles, and my heart will also ripple.
"The rain is gurgling outside the curtain", does this sentence come from this? Today people don’t know. Watch the rain trickle away again, either to find the fragrance in the soil, or to moisten the dryness.
Silence is the night, the sound of rain is soft, tightly woven into a net, covering the noise of the world and caressing the troubles of the outside world. Like the softest hands in the world, touch my ears, then rub my heart, giving me a dream without any disturbance.
Now living in the reinforced concrete forest, thousands of gray and black tiles have imitated butterflies dancing in the dust, and the music of tiles has begun to fade away. There was a time when I didn't want to hold an umbrella in the rain and let the raindrops kiss my long hair.
When the wind blows, my clothes flutter, and I imagine a purple umbrella floating from the opposite side. Under the umbrella is a smiling face like the warm spring breeze. Walk side by side with me under the umbrella. Don’t say anything, just listen to the raindrops. Music on the umbrella. Soft and warm, it rubs into the blood and bone marrow, penetrates the soul, and merges into the color of an umbrella in the heart.
It was only when my clothes were soaked that I thought of giving myself an umbrella. The changing colors showed my mood like raindrops. Walking under the umbrella, you are completely away from the sound of rain.
Thousands of glasses of wine can clear up thoughts, and a thousand drops of rain can make our hearts sad if we forget each other. Passing away in silence, beauty twilight.
"Yellow-leafed trees in the rain, white-headed people under the lamp", listen to the sound of rain, it is quiet, pure and close. The sound of rain may be the most primitive percussion music.
On the night I went to Hangzhou, it rained suddenly and non-stop. When I opened the window of the room where I stayed, I could see the shade of green trees. The broad-leaf trees bear the raindrops, but they never sound sonorous, but sometimes they sound like waterfalls, and sometimes they sound like broken jade.
The ancients composed "Rain Beating the Plantains", which must have come from their feelings. They heard the rain falling for a long time and then bursting like a rainbow, which was out of control, and that's why they got this unique sound. "Shanglue rains at dusk", the vision is blurred, clouds and smoke gather, just like the mountains and rivers of the Song Dynasty.
Holding a cup of hot tea and leaning against the window lattice, you can vaguely see Li Qingzhao's "The parasol tree is also drizzle, and the drizzle is falling bit by bit at dusk." The sparse raindrops drop on the sycamore tree, and I feel sad for more than a thousand times.
Knocking and knocking, from noon to dusk, and then into the night, my heart, which had turned to desert, began to feel a little warmer. The shower knocked on the lotus leaves, and Li Yishan left the remaining lotus leaves to listen to the sound of rain, or "the tong hibiscus sun fell, and it was lonely after the rain." There are many words about rain that have been passed down from ancient times to the present. No matter how you read them, they are all desolate.
It makes people miss home, miss their relatives, and feel nostalgia. Go boating on the West Lake and listen to the rain, the patter is like the sound of a zither, and the clatter is like a war drum.
It has been a thousand years since the bridge was broken, and the silk umbrella has passed away. It is still lingering today. Where is the lover? How come there are so many sad and beautiful love stories left behind, but the sound of rain is missing? If there is no spiritual rain, this resort, which is comparable to heaven, will definitely lack some spiritual energy and will not give people the most gentle and weak touch. I kept thinking about Jiang Jie, who spent his whole life listening to the rain. The young man listened to the rain under the red tent, the middle-aged listened to the rain in the boat, and the old man listened to the rain under the monk's hut, leaving a piece of the pain of the death of the Song Dynasty.
Just as I sighed in my peripheral vision, a sensitive heart is made of cold raindrops. Ten years, "No matter how heroic and chivalrous you are, I'm afraid you won't be able to withstand the wind and rain over and over again."
The rain hit, and my heart became cold, leaving nothing to listen to the rain's last song for eternity. I will always do something I want to do and think something I want quietly on a rainy night alone. Loneliness is a person's carnival.
When you are tired, listen to the pattering outside the window, and in your heart, I wish you could be as calm as water. Listen to the sound of rain, settle your thoughts, and let the ups and downs rise and fall.
Just like meditation in yoga, open your heart and wipe yourself. I am just a mortal, like an ant among all living beings, there will always be some patches.
No one can forget everything that should be forgotten. In this secular world, it is rare to find an absolute pure land.
I have always longed to go to the mountain forest after the rain, where the mist is thick, the green is as new, and the sparse birds and insects chirp. Look for the traces of raindrops and listen to the lingering sound after the rain has passed.
I don’t want to be able to go around the beams, but I want to be able to get the Sanskrit sounds from the Bamboo Sea that I yearn for and cleanse my heart. Time is passing by, and the sea will turn into a mulberry field.
Listen to the sound of rain. It has traveled all the way from ancient times to today. How many thin or thick dirt has been washed away, but it is still pouring and pattering. It remains unchanged forever, and the feelings remain the same. If there is a heart, there will be rain, and if there is rain, there will be sound.
How many people listen to the rain, listening to the same rain, but thinking about different things. The most romantic thing I can think of is that when I get old, I just want to sit at the door or in front of the window, holding a book and a cup of tea, staying away from the hustle and bustle of the world, quietly listening to the rain.
In the noisy city of Wenji, it is extremely enjoyable to sit down and listen to the sound of rain. The city used its busy hands to take pictures of the hurried figures of urban people, and casually posted the photos on the streets and alleys of the city. How many people in a hurry can have the leisure to listen to the sound of rain? ? The sound of rain is different in every place in the world, right? if only. 3. Listen to the sound of the rain, a 150-word essay for third grade
In the afternoon, "Washing, rushing...", bursts of crisp "music" woke me up from my sweet nap. I rubbed my hazy eyes and looked out the window - ah, it's raining heavily! All the scenery in front of me was covered with rain, and I couldn't see clearly at all. The mountains in the distance wear transparent belts. In the afternoon on a rainy day, the air is very fresh, and the cool breeze blows from time to time, which is very cool.
Look, the big raindrops hit the ground, splashing water and creating circles of ripples. A gust of wind blew, tilting the crystal clear rain curtain, and the raindrops hit the glass window, making a "crackling" sound. How beautiful the sound was!
Everything becomes bright.
I took my umbrella, rushed out of the house, stood in the rain, the raindrops danced on the umbrella...
I like rain! 4. Composition of "Listening to the Sound of Rain"
"The rain is gurgling outside the curtain, the spring is fading, and the quilt can't bear the cold at midnight." When it was almost dawn, the gurgling rain woke the poet up, and he heard it It was desolate. The sound of rain also contains sadness and joy. And I have a listening heart, and gradually, listening to the rain becomes a kind of beauty in the habit -
The flowers begin to bloom, and the spring rain comes with the gentle wind. Rustling, rustling, like a girl dancing gracefully, or like a friend whispering to each other. If it's night, sometimes you hear a rush of footsteps, like a mother running anxiously to find her child. Xusou is a kind of intimacy. Facing the window, I was mesmerized by the gentleness emanating from the rain.
The showers of summer rain bring me the joy of childhood. Only a few muffled thunder could be heard, and the sound of rain was like beating drums. The sound expresses the pride and ambition in the heart, which reminds people of the majestic Ansai waist drum - rapid, unrestrained, enthusiastic and flying. Accompanied by the sound of rain, I laughed and ran without restraint in the rain forest, enjoying the beauty of raindrops hitting the eaves, rising happily and falling gently. It was really a kind of beauty, it was really an indescribable beauty. flavor.
The rain in the mountains is fresh and elegant, and has a special taste in my heart. Walking slowly along the wet winding mountain road, letting the rain play in the forest - sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes loud, sometimes small, very similar to her emotions. Yu Ke doesn't care who you are, she is naughty and willful, without any modification or pretense of being delicate. Listening and listening, you unconsciously want to open your heart and talk to her without any grudges or suspicions.
I don’t know who has said that the sound of rain is the heartbeat of the earth and the cry of nature. So I kept trying to listen. After a long time, I not only heard her tenderness, timelessness, and mellowness; I also heard her lightness, simplicity, and purity; I also heard her freedom and freedom.
Reference material: "Study Newspaper for Middle School Students" 5. Listening to the Rain Composition, a 300-word story composition
The rain keeps falling from the sky, densely packed, and from a distance, it seems that everything The scenery is covered with a thin, transparent rain curtain, which is really beautiful. I lay on the window sill and stared blankly at the beautiful scenery in front of me.
The rain not only looks good, but also sounds good!
The rain gradually became lighter, "ding ding dong dong", the raindrops hit the plastic awning. "Tick-tick-tick", the raindrops hit the leaves. "Rust, rustle," the raindrops hit the petals. Rain, not heavy. But like strands of green hair, they keep falling down.
The raindrops hit different objects and make various sounds. It seems that the small raindrops are playing a beautiful piece of music.
The small raindrops gathered on the leaves and became a big drop of water, sliding down the veins of the leaves, beating like a small drum: "Pop!" "Boom, boom, boom!" "Dong-dong-dong-" A gust of wind blew, and all the water drops on the leaves fell down.
"Boom, boom, boom!" "Pa, bang, bang!" "Dong, dong, dong!" All the drums were beating, beating on the roof and the awning, as if the earth was a drum, The raindrops are shaking the earth.
The rain became heavier, and I heard different sounds of rain again. 6. An 800-word essay about listening to the sound of rain
The drizzle was falling quietly. It was so light that I didn’t feel it was raining. Gradually, my face became moist, like a person walking in the fog. The drizzle seemed to be slowly wiping away the dust all over my body, and seemed to be telling me my true feelings. The drizzle slowly moistened my heart, gently caressing my face and moistening my skin. The nerve tail of my skin was the first to hear the sound of drizzle. A hint of coolness penetrated my heart, and my heart was rustling. , that is when the heart feels the sound of rain, and the sound is rustling. The drizzle was falling harder, and I could hear the rustling sound in my ears. This sound was too familiar to me. I once remember that I felt uncomfortable in my head during class. I wanted to take a break and left some questions for the students to complete. I sat on the chair and closed my eyes to relax. The classroom was quiet. After a while, I felt a little sleepy. What I heard in the haze was rustling, "It's raining!" I suddenly raised my head and said to the students. The students looked out the window and saw that the sun was shining and there was no rain. The classroom is still so quiet. It turns out that the rustling sound is the sound made by the students writing quietly on the paper. The sound of the students writing can simulate the sound of drizzle. I awkwardly said to the students again: "Students can simulate the sound of drizzle by writing quietly in the classroom. I thought it was raining." Only then did I realize that a good teacher should be careful. The spring rain gently moisturizes the hearts of the students. What a noble profession this is. I have met several teachers like this before I became a teacher. They are all gentle spring rains that moisturize our hearts as students, and our souls are what they are today with their nourishment.
It rarely rains in summer, but when it does it rains heavily, and the sound of the rain is loud. It seems to be the disciplined and orderly footsteps of troops marching in the quiet night. The footsteps come from far to near, and then from near to far. The sound of heavy rain is like this, and the rush march on a rainy day is a harmony of the sound of rushing and the sound of rushing.
At the same time, the rain rushed to rush the march. The marching team braved the rain to march in a hurry. The rain rushed to march in a hurry. The rain rushed to rush the march. The rain often also delayed the speed of the march. The word "hurry" means "hurry", and the sound of "swishing" is like an inspiring horn. Although there is no real horn to inspire people to go forward and fight bravely, the sound of "shushing" has a sense of urgency. People's understanding of time and speed can be learned from Feelings came from this brushing sound. In the torrential rain, no normal person walks slowly. They all stride towards a place that can cover their bodies to take shelter from the rain amidst the sound of rain. This is a person's first reaction. Of course, rescuing property and lives during heavy rain does not fall into this category.
The continuous drizzle in autumn is very different from the drizzle in spring. The sound of rain at this time still sounds like rustling, but the speed has accelerated. It seemed that he was talking endlessly to me about his true feelings, and I couldn't help but feel bored in my heart. A fellow villager said: "If you spank a child on a rainy day, you will be idle." It means that the continuous rain in autumn makes people upset and cannot go to the fields to work. There is nothing to do. This is the right time to take out the anger on the children who can't open their eyes. Mood determines people's consciousness. When adults are busy, they can't even take a look at their children, so they have time to spank their children. The sound of rain on rainy days can always represent people's mood, and the sound of rain also reflects people's mood. People's moods also reflect the sky. A cloudy sky is like a widow's face. Is it the widow's face that is cloudy or the sky is cloudy? Has the person who originally made the metaphor experienced the mood of a widow? On a cloudy day without rain, you can't hear the sound of rain, which makes you feel very depressed. No wonder some people compare it to a widow's face on a cloudy day without rain. When it was windy and rainy, in the roar of the wind, my ears recognized the sound of the rain. It was hard listening, because the sound of the wind covered up the sound of the rain. Many times the things we want are mixed in with the things we hate, and if we don’t identify them carefully, we lose what we want. The patter of rain is a struggle against the wind. When the wind stops, the rain is still ticking one after another. Only when the last drop of rain is poured down can one be willing to accept it, as if to make up for the sound of rain that is not reflected in the wind. This is essentially different from the sound of human sobbing. Sobbing is weakness and incompetence. Tick-tock is the joy of striving for success. If people learn the spirit of tick-tock, they must complete things from beginning to end.
For thousands of years, the sound of rain has been inseparable from life. The sound of rain resides in life, and life also relies on the sound of rain. The sound of rain beats life. Life is about a mood, and listening to the sound of rain writes our mood. 7. An 800-word composition about listening to the sound of rain
Composition for primary school students: Narrative Reading Guide Listening to the Sound of Rain 6 Ice crystal butterflies listen to the sound of rain outside the window: rustling, rustling...soft and fresh melody, warm music The artistic conception of language attracts people's imagination, just like the gurgling clear spring blends into autumn, and blends into everyone's heart. Listen to the sound of rain outside the window: rustling, rustling, rustling... The soft and fresh melody, and the tender music language attract people's artistic conception, just like gurgling The clear spring blends into winter and into everyone's heart.
Ever since I can remember, somehow I have been obsessed with rain almost all of a sudden. It is as soft as water and as light as wind.
Gives people a fresh feeling. When I am alone in a daze, if it rains outside the window, I will never miss it.
Opening the window, you can see the red wall in the distance, the graceful green willows, the winding stone path, and the exquisite white tower, misty in the drizzle, like a girl, separated by one floor. A gauze curtain. Over time, the rain became my "confidant". It seemed to understand my troubles and always blew a bit of cool breeze towards me.
A little bit of it breaks into my heart again and again. Even though there were a lot of worries and grievances in my heart, they were all washed away by the rain at this moment.
On an evening after school, white lights suddenly flashed across the sky, like waving white swords; then, there was another muffled thunder. People on the street were running away in all directions. I used my schoolbag as an umbrella and trotted all the way.
At this moment, raindrops as big as soybeans fell one after another, and the mountains and plains were enveloped in gauze-like rain and mist, fresh, moist, and as beautiful as poetry and painting. I stopped hesitantly. Isn't this exactly what I want? A trace of rain fell from the sky to the ground, creating vortexes.
I let the rain hit my head, soaked my schoolbag, and soaked into my soul. After about half an hour, the rain slowly subsided and the strong wind turned into a breeze.
The rain curtain tilted, like filaments spreading towards the trees and walls. At this moment, I suddenly remembered that my parents were worried at home! So, I quickened my pace and ran towards home, looking back from time to time to look at the vast misty rain... The rain was still falling, rustling, this was it playing. It played the music of the city, playing full The small rivers sing out people's joy and a brilliant tomorrow. 8. Is there an essay titled "Listen to the Sound of Rain"?
Listen to the Sound of Drizzle
In bustling cities and busy lives, people often take care of themselves. We often take care of the tasks that must be done every day, but we often overlook things that are not noticeable. Listen to the drizzle and the most beautiful sound.
I like to stare at the sky and listen to the sound of drizzle in the spring night. Thin raindrops fell gently into the soil, drawing beautiful silver arcs in the air.
Close your eyes and listen! Quietly feel the tranquility of the rain, which is inaudible to people who are busy with trivial matters. When you clear away the accumulated dust in your mind, enjoy the rustling sound. A tinkling sound fills your ears. A clear crisp sound enters your heart. It is the most true and pure sound of nature, it vibrates your thoughts and cleanses your soul. There is no noise, no trivial matters, no need to speak, no need to do anything, just listening. Until your heart feels relaxed and every inch of your body feels comfortable. Think about the things around you again! The little unhappiness between classmates and the little problems with family members all dispersed into the sky accompanied by the profound and peaceful music.
Listen again and enjoy the thin needle-like rain falling from the sky and hitting the ground, feeling empty and distant. The higher your thoughts are, the farther you go. Entering a refined world, the problems in daily life no longer bother you, but you suddenly feel a faint majestic beauty. Standing at the height of life and having a bird's eye view of your life path is the sublimation of thought.
Listening again, the raindrops fell into the stagnant water, making a deep sound. The elegant and charming breath spreads to your ears, your brain, and your heart. When you think about real life, you will better understand yourself, better set short-term goals for your life, better consider the long-term direction of life, better handle relationships with others, and be more responsible for this. There is a thought for everything.
Listening again, the sound of rain becomes fine and lively. Breathing becomes easy, and the whole body and mind are light, jumping with the happy rhythm of raindrops.
When you slowly come to your senses and open your eyes, the scenery in front of you becomes extremely bright. You are a new self.
Listen to the sound of drizzle at night and listen to the most beautiful sound. This is a reflection on life and an understanding of life. Listen, listen carefully, savor the sound of drizzle.