喜欢听雨,独自一人,坐在窗前,静静地听着雨丝霏霏地扯下页页郁悒,那么的理不完也飘不断。又下雨了,用记忆撑起一把孤寂的伞,一个人静静地伫立在雨中,用惆怅的心去读懂这雨丝———没有词,没有曲,甚至没有任何音符,我的思绪也被这雨丝无端地牵引着,打湿一片片的记忆。透过城市那 Like to listen to the rain, alone, sitting in front of the window, quietly listening to the rain dripping down the pages of turbulence, so the endless stream is also drifting. It was raining again, holding up a loneliness umbrella with memory, one standing quietly in the rain, reading this rain with a sly heart—no words, no songs, no notes, no thoughts. It was also plucked by the rain without any reason to wet the memory. Through the city