Essays and poems about "Rain"!

The guest misses for a hundred years, but walking alone weighs a thousand miles. It rained black in the river, and the waves and Whitestorm began to rise. -In the Northern and Southern Dynasties, He Xun sent "

He stared at the desolate moon from his temporary palace, and he heard the rain at dusk, cutting his chest. -Tang Bai Juyi's Song of Eternal Sorrow

Moonlight Rain (Prose Poetry)

Moonlight rain, moonlight rain, dancing on the leaves like a happy bunny.

The children giggled in the moonlight. They jumped and jumped happily, the straw hats on their heads jumped and jumped, and the surrounding Woods and rivers jumped and jumped. The moon girl blushed and hid and smiled. The hidden heart must jump behind the clouds.

God-given gold, God-given moonlight rain, from the top of the head to the bottom of the foot, from the outside to the inside, from the bones to the soul, are all golden, transparent, as pleasing to the eye as green, as cool as borneol.

The children stole some lotus leaves, and they caught the golden elves together, and the elves rolled happily. Children should hang the moonlight rain, plant it in the ground next spring, let them sprout and blossom, and bear the moonlight rain full of trees, and then give these golden fruits to their friends and kindergarten teachers. ...

Listen to the rain under the eaves "prose"

In the rainy season, thinking of the eaves and listening to the rain have a unique aesthetic feeling. Although it is not like splashing water in the whirlpool of a small river, rushing into the beach of the sea, or in a secluded alley of a small town, there is also the pleasant feeling that Mao Mao rain sings softly, moderate rain summons things, and heavy rain flies sand and stones. Needless to say, the trickle gave me the combing of the rain and the meticulous harmony of the rain; Needless to say, the swing that rolled around to me, the play against the rain, and the fire against the rain made me restless and full of emotions. Rain is the surprise of my childhood, and rain is the joy of my childhood. I am looking for the transformation of childlike interest in this rainy world. I remember that Longjiang has grown so much in this rainy field of vision.

The smell of time pervades my hometown. Time has eroded my hometown.

Many years have passed, and I always have a picture of the middle of the last century: the small town of Bei 'an stands by the Wuyuer River, with undulating huts and eaves covered with moss and wormwood. A little boy, half naked and barefoot, stands by the door with imagination, listening to raindrops dripping from the tip of thatched grass with fresh moss, sometimes like beads, sometimes like curtains, stepping on raindrops. This is a touching "small town boy listening to the rain"? ! In fact, in my childhood when I was looking forward to writing, the faint deep alley was like a long tunnel, connecting my dream of going to all directions. Only this rain can keep my heart, let me read like an ancient road, day after day, year after year, until I pack my bags and stay away. The rain in my hometown is already a mark on my forehead.

The obsession with rain is like the gurgling water wandering in memory.

I still remember several days, listening to the rain, hiding. God kept raining, and his cold resentment was exhausted. After the rain, the water was slower than the threshold. I rushed into the house and didn't reach my waist. I was very lonely. I thought of Yue Fei and her mother escaping from the flood. Without a vat, I lay on the floating washbasin, sliding outside the house with my hands like paddles and swinging to the corner. When I was rescued by my kind uncle, I was still laughing and not afraid. Even if you are crazy, Yucheng ditch can put a boat; My wooden boat and paper boat will be full of fun. Listening to the rain under the eaves, like a childhood bonfire, is fascinating. Although it always rains heavily, flooding livestock, houses and people, I still like rain. The fun of performance is that big raindrops pour down like notes and rattles, and "fall" all over the street like a river, which can be seen everywhere. Look, there are rain flowers on the water. They're all beautiful. Beautiful. They bloom with thanks, but they are obviously extinguished, as if they were born and died in an instant. It is more difficult to catch than epiphyllum. I want to collect them, but I can't count them. In my interest, I reached out to the "river" and picked the yuhua district. Unfortunately, there is no flower body, which is fragile and cannot be put into a vase. I picked it up and put it down, put it down and picked it up. The rain flower bloomed in my palm, and the soles of my feet were endless and far away, until I was confused and could not see it. In this world, the big bathtub is extremely cool and comfortable, and I don't know how many times in my life! However, I have never forgotten that the goodness of this rain contains turbidity and barrenness.

I heard the time and passed me by.

Living in his hometown, I don't have such rain. Maybe I met him, but I broke my childhood dream.

I have a rain-listening building, and I feel different in different environments. Living in a reinforced concrete frame and listening to the rain in the turbid air is nothing more than noisy pressure seeking release. Complex things are detached in an instant, but the rain in downtown is not so fresh. When I went to xishuangbanna tourism that year, I stood on the eaves of a three-star hotel and listened to the tropical rain forest. I think the rain is hot, soft and sweet, and I am in a hurry to leave. The intermittent rain challenges the dream of dawn. The veil and mist keep the tropical plants in the south in cages, and the canopy is more mysterious. In the distance, three or five palm trees are tall and straight, fluttering in the wind; Not far away, seven or eight coconut trees are dotted with green carpets and embrace each other into umbrellas. Eyes are full of green flowers, poetic and picturesque as rain milk, singing the beauty of shame. It's better to see the scenery than the rain. I'm taking a bath, and so is nature. In fact, don't we often find beauty in the rain? The tour guide with a flower umbrella is graceful and light-footed, lining the lush half of the balcony pavilion around him, and the ink is light blue, which is warm and refreshing. The rain in Yunnan, like a song already composed, hummed my memory. Listening to the rain abroad is also a good choice. When I went to Singapore, the hotel was quite elegant and printed with the logo of Lion City. As a foreigner, I stood in its luxurious glass doors and windows. The rain is as clean as a city without a trace of dust. As long as it rains, I will stand. The exotic customs in front of me are deliberately sheltered from the rain, so I can guess and think. Singapore is a highly civilized country. There are no sputum and cigarette butts on the ground, and the air is as fresh as green tea. The rain particularly attracted my attention. I know, the leader of the white shirt has been wearing it for several days, but there is still no trace of dust. The rain rises, flows gracefully through the clouds, gropes for a few laps in the sky, and several muffled thunder falls. Will it get dirty? However, I found attentively that the accumulated water under heavy rain was still so clear.

I think, when will the rain in my hometown be so purified?

Listening to the rain on the roof of my hometown, let it go. It's okay for foreign hotels to listen to the rain. People always remember the road they have traveled. I'm not sure which day, when I go to other places to listen to the rain, or go to the United Nations to listen to the rain, it must have some feelings, right? ! In the constant listening to the rain, the long river of time has been magnificent, flowing in front of my eyes, and youth is far away on the other side in a twinkling. Thinking of "the deceased is like a husband", my heart is trembling, listening with tears, listening to the constant waiting and pursuit of love and beauty in the depths of life. If there is a more specific picture in front of me, my pen farming should be that. On a starry moonless night, travelers who are struggling to find their way in the mountains are looking forward to a bright flash in the sky, just waiting for inspiration and listening to the rain under the eaves.