细雨蒙蒙的晚上,我独自站在凉台上聆听这春雨贵如油的雨落在地上的僻啪声。这声音没有惊天动地的吼声,没有气吞山河的壮举,而是随风潜入夜,润物细有声。淅淅沥沥的小雨伴随着温和的风打在脸上,一丝凉意使人清醒了许多,感到小雨的无私使大地尽情沐浴,小草在风雨中摇曳着点头予以回报。我心中更渴望小雨的洗礼。 Rainy night, I stood alone on the veranda to listen to the spring rain your oil rain fell to the floor of the noise. This voice is not earth-shattering roar, not breathless feat, but the wind into the night, moisten things sound. Looming rain accompanied by a mild wind hitting the face, a trace of cool make a lot of sober, feel the rain of selflessness to make the earth enjoy the bath, the grass swaying in the wind and nodded in return. My heart is more eager for the baptism of light rain.