幽幽地站在潺潺流水边,凝望着似曾相识的青石板路,默默思念,默默流泪;聆听着天的哭泣声,期盼着水匆匆流,等候着我的归期。江南的雨,不似倾盆大雨般轰轰烈烈,却如我的泪,只是寂静无声地悄然滑过,丝毫不引人注意。 Faintly standing by the turbulent waters, staring at the familiar quartzite road, silently thinking, silently weeping; listening to the cries of the sky, looking forward to the rush of water, waiting for my return. The rain in the south of the Yangtze River is not as vigorous and torrential as the rain. It is like my tears, but it slips silently and silently. It does not attract anyone’s attention.