I wait for the four seasons of wind and rain.

Like rain, like rainy season.

I like the spring rain, which is as expensive as oil. I like the poem praising the spring rain, "Good rain knows the season, and when spring comes, it sneaks into the night with the wind, moistening things silently."

I turned over a new leaf in the spring rain and looked back on the past. In the spring rain, I buried all the memories about the cold. The season is in spring, and winter is still far away. In full of green, the flowers are blooming, the spring rain is ticking, and the sounds of nature are playing in heaven and earth. Walking hand in hand in the rain, watching the raindrops wet the hair tips and watching the spring rain compose poems. Now the folk songs are coming, and love is flying at the moment. "Walk with me in the streets of Chengdu, I will hold your sleeve, and you will put your hand in your trouser pocket ..." Actually, you don't need to fix a place, you just need a soul mate. Freshwater shore, at the foot of seven buddha, garden club ... as long as there is spring rain, as long as there is you. ...

So immersed in it, intoxicated in the spring rain.

Suddenly, the rain suddenly became dense. Thunder rumbled and dark clouds gathered. Summer rain comes and goes in a hurry, unrestrained and carefree. I'm very satisfied with its rhythm. I can come and go at will. Without deliberate restraint, completely release the true heart sound. Running or pouring, it talks with heaven and earth with majesty and expresses its feelings for the four seasons with momentum. "I am me, different fireworks ..."

When it rains in summer, swaying thoughts are everywhere with English autumn. Flowing with pity, sighing with dust. My soul banished me in the rain, and my emotions drifted away from me with the wind. Summer rain is a sharp weapon to cool down. After a storm comes a calm, the cool wind is light. Make an appointment with one or two friends or confidants, pace or have a tea break, recite poems or have tea. The swaying glass is full of memories, and the faint sunset glow cherishes the past and cherishes the present.

Time ticks and the rain goes deep into the years.

Autumn rain is falling. Don't say that autumn rain is bleak, it is its unique charm. "Poetry on the pillow is so idle, the scenery in front of the door is so rainy", "After the rain, the mountains are empty, and the color of late autumn is established". Another year's farewell, Chen Gen's tail leaves fluttered. Go home without complaining, and the coming year will be full of vitality.

Residual lotus listens to the rain, it rains at night, and it listens to the rain by the window ... Reading poetry is warm, and poetry rolls autumn rain. ...

The winter rain is falling, the world is solemn, and the mountains and seas are empty.

Silence enlarges the outline of the city and blurs the distance between distant mountains. Winter rain follows the eve of snowflakes and raises a glass in front of the boiling hot pot, one for the years and the other for yourself. Looking at it, the poet and singer sang, "Why is the sky so pale and the earth so melancholy?" Is it winter rain coming? " I look forward to a game of "Old People Fishing in Hanjiang River-Snow" in the evening when the winter rain is far away and the snow is late.

I like rainy season. I wait for the four seasons of wind and rain.