Listen to the rain, I don't know who wrote it. The teacher asked us to watch it online, because we just finished learning "Listening to Spring in Dinghushan" not long ago.

Yu Ji (Yuan)

The screen is located around the temple,

The crimson wax shook the light.

The situation in Beijing has changed for many years.

Suddenly listen to the spring rain and remember Jiangnan.

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This is an improvised lyric poem. At the beginning, a sad scene is created: a poet with sparse sideburns is sitting alone between screens, and red candles are swaying and shining on his drunken and hazy face. Sitting alone on the screen, candlelight at dusk and drinking alone every other year all reveal a bit of loneliness from the inside out. At this time, the poet was immersed in the recollection of the past and lamented that his official career made him lose his true self. But the poet still has true feelings in his heart, and he thinks of his hometown Jiangnan in the spring rain. Here, there is a sharp contrast between Beijing and Jiangnan, which shows the poet's boredom with official life.

The young mermaid Yu Ting.

A famous poem "Listening to the Rain" is of course Jie Jiang's "Young Beauty" in the Song Dynasty.

Teenagers listen to the rain in the song building,

The red candle is weak.

In the prime of life, listening to the rain on the boat,

Zhang Guoyun is low,

Broken geese are called westerly winds.

Now listen to the rain monk,

The temple is full of stars.

Sorrow and joy are always ruthless,

One step ago,

Drip till dawn.

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Jie Jiang's mood when listening to the rain is quite complicated. He summed up his life by listening to the rain, from youth, prime of life to old age, and reached the realm of "total ruthlessness in joys and sorrows". However, there are considerable differences between ancient and modern concepts of the elderly. He is a "star on the temple" and his hair is a little white. The oldest seems to be only about fifty years old. From today's perspective, he is just between middle age and old age. Compared with myself, I am nine years old, and my temples are no longer "stars", but "Tongshan" on them. I am more qualified than him to reach the realm of "emotions are always ruthless". I have been able to "make waves, not happy or afraid".

But why am I in a high mood when I listen to the rain today? There is not much elegance in it. I am a complete "layman" here. I think mainly of wheat, which is the green wheat seedling on the vast Yuan Ye. I was born in the country. Although I left at the age of six, I can't talk about doing farm work, but I have picked up wheat, beans, mowed grass and cut sorghum leaves. I have farmer's blood in my veins. Until today, I have deep feelings for farmers and rural areas all my life. Farmers' greatest hope is to get more food. Drought threatens the growth of crops. Even though I have lived in the city for a long time, whenever it rains, I will look at Yun Ni and claim that I am as anxious as a farmer. Spring in the north, nine droughts in ten years. There seems to be another drought this year. I listen to the weather forecast every day and always observe the clouds in the sky. Worry, nothing can be done. What I saw in my dream was the rain in Mao Mao.

My dream came true this morning. I sat on this balcony, which is only a few feet long and a few feet wide. When I heard the rain overhead, I couldn't help being fascinated and relaxed. In Kokodaka's rugged wheat field, every leaf seems to open its mouth and suck sweet raindrops, like dew from heaven, which was a little yellow and withered, but now it turns green. It used to be green, but now it's greener. The universe adds a warmth and peace out of thin air.

Note: This appreciation is from Ji Xianlin's Listening to the Rain.

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When I was a child, I listened to the rain on the rostrum, lit red candles in the dim light and hung a light curtain.

Middle-aged people, on a boat in a foreign country, watch the drizzle, the vast river, the water and the sky, the west wind, and a lonely goose wail.

Now, people are old, with white hair, and they are alone at the monk's house, listening to the drizzle. Recalling the joys and sorrows of life, let it rain until dawn.