The rain at night makes it rain.
The heavy rain outside the curtain startled the dreamer.
The night lock is sad, and the past haunts me.
Three thousand calligraphy poems and essays, one stroke at a time thinking of the king.
When we meet each other at dusk, why are we always separated?
Inscription
At night, the foggy clouds are heavy, and the sloping rain crackles on the corrugated, merges into a trickle, weaves rain curtains and goes down the eaves. Disturb the stillness of the night, the raging dreams, the human heart. That once cherished, missed, affectionate, sentimental past, the interpretation of yesterday's memory, in this quiet hidden in the noisy rainy night, set off endless thoughts, endless thoughts.
Read, that midnight eaves rain under an encounter; that person about a lingering after dusk; that folded willow alliance affection of a deep feeling. Just like the tenderness of mountains and waters, the charm of butterflies and flowers, and the fluttering of wind and rain, they are the feelings immersed in faded memories and read the romance of the past. In, silent place, looking for the sustenance of the soul.
The same weather will have a different mood. The night is still the same night, the rain is still the same rain. However, there is less romantic scenery in the past. Time flies, time is blurred, a turn ups and downs how many old dreams, a wave of the number of spring and autumn. Suddenly looking back, how much to look forward to, how much nostalgia, flowing at the fingertips, all in front of the eyes. When, time took away the past, but the memory clearly used to be beautiful at the same time. All love is like this raindrop, when it falls to pieces, it leaves a last sigh and falls to the ground.
Therefore, such a night will often arouse those who lean against the window and listen to the rain, or those who watch the rain and write poems, feel inexplicably sad in their hearts. Perhaps emotional people are like this, or, lingering thoughts against the rain, it is easier to let people feel it!
Lou Gao Ben is afraid of relying on the fence, in such a night when his heart is wet by the rain. Dark eyes, not only stretch the night, but also extend the loneliness of the heart. Stereotyped Acacia, kneaded into the lonely and unbearable heart, a wisp of idle sorrow, in a moment of surprise, quietly climbed up the brow. Boundless thoughts, deep and shallow affect every section of the past, in the heart of the sea of ripples, strands of tenderness. Just as the wind and rain outside the window are as affectionate as the wind and rain, they are intertwined horizontally and obliquely, forming thousands of feelings that are constantly cut and disorderly.
I like to listen to the rain to write words, not because the rain is so beautiful and how sad the words are, but just because there has been a record of someone, something, and a break between the lines. The most difficult thing in life is the emotion when you meet for the first time, and the most unforgettable thing is the person who walks into your heart. It is difficult to choose between giving up and persistence. Daring to give up is a kind of mind, persistent persistence is not a kind of courage. Who can tell which is right and which is wrong? the Tao is clear.
Most of the time, we can put down a person, but can not let go of the inner obsession. In order to realize a dream and seek a result, the old stories, lost dreams and hazy figures are recorded in the level of rain in the Tang and Song dynasties. That time fell in love with each other, poured into the most beautiful years; a gorgeous encounter, full of beautiful love. That twining fingertips tenderness, that vows of love agreement, that everlasting Zhen Nuo, that romantic how many days and nights of love and green. Dizzy ink Rou Xuan on the shallow painting time, turned into Acacia, kneaded into the rain, written into the dusty title page, meaningful engraved into a section of Eternal mournful sentences, a colorful curtain of dreams, a shallow whisper in the depths of my heart.
Some people say: memory is a bridge, but it is a prison leading to loneliness.
When I read this sentence for the first time, I felt quite reasonable. People always like to be full of fantasy, in that curtain of dream vision, carrying too many beautiful expectations. Turn around and pick up the scenery that remains in the memory. A goodbye, how much love sealed; a treasure, how much tenderness; a turn around, how much warmth cooled. Those moon hanging willow tip, people about dusk, the accumulation of feelings, but how can not hold hands forever, can only put your figure, fixed in the ring of memory. Because of a love word, imprison your heart in a dream with you, draw a circle on the ground as a prison.
Looking back on that green time, carefully taking care of that unforgettable encounter, trying to cherish that sentimental love. Virtually weave a net that can't be undone and can't break out. As people often say, everyone has a private space, which is too small to accommodate almost all people and things, including their own relatives, friends, brothers and sisters. However, once someone breaks into the space, it becomes smaller because it does not want the intruder to go out.
Slowly understand, love, need two hearts to care; love, need two hearts to communicate. True love requires understanding, trust, tolerance and freedom. There is no love that cannot last forever, only those who do not know how to cherish it. There is no love that cannot last forever, only a heart that does not know how to protect it. In fact, the person who is really close to each other's hearts in life is the most precious possession. When a broken love is retained in this way that cares too much, it is also being buried at the same time. You are doomed not to enter his heart, and it is useless to retain him. Why not quietly bury that pure love in the heart, in the later days, deep reading, slow memories, is also good.
Written on a Rainy Night to a Friend in the North You ask me when I can return, but I don't know; It rains in western hills and autumn pool o'erflow. When can we trim by windowside the candlelight And talk about the western hills in rainy night. I have always liked this poem by Li Shangyin.
This mournful love poem has touched the hearts of many literati at all times and at home and abroad. The deep affection between the poet and his wife and the night rain scenery of a foreign land are aptly integrated. He can't go home for the time being, which makes his lovesickness even stronger. The divorce is surging, and the heart is more and more restless. Imagine the romance of meeting again in the future and cutting red candles with your wife. If you recall the pain of separation today, and taste the joy of reunion tomorrow, there must be a bitter and sweet taste hovering in your heart. The poet's thousands of thoughts, all kinds of tenderness, unexpectedly so tremble my heart, that unforgettable affection, that affectionate attachment, in such a rainy night, there is a special taste in my heart.
Collect the scattered past and immerse yourself in the old romance. Sometimes, I pretend to be numb and stupid. I don't want to see through all the phenomena in this world. I just want to stay in a corner, pay foolishly, and stay together in silence. Whether you and I, a turning distance, is close to the horizon, or thousands of rivers and mountains, I can not measure the yardstick of love, the depth of love. I would like to come with you on such a rainy night. Listen to a night rain, full of love, hold a tenderness, infect into countless Acacia. A pool of calligraphy, a few Song ci, in the plain paper book a moment graceful, still prosperous; any flowers bloom Xie, the four seasons change.
Only, that affectionate affection with beautiful love, dizzy with the whole rainy night of romance; for you sprinkle countless love. Mo Dao that, the stars change, the heart is like water. Mo Yana, the past is like smoke, this is not what it used to be. A reunion continues an unforgettable love. Even if the beauty is in an instant, it does not feel sorry; even if the flowers bloom in an instant, they do not feel lonely.
Keep a window of rain at night, miss a lingering scene. Tonight, there is endless love, just because love is like a tide, there is endless love, only because love is stronger than the sky. The swaying clouds and smoke, the whirling rain. Gently, awaken the tenderness buried in the years. Let the soul walk in the rainy night, lead each other in the plain paper, depend on each other in ink and ink, accompany in serenity, only wish the years quiet.
Author: Huang Ye Dance Qiufeng
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