细雨润着她的脸,脸也酥酥,心也酥酥。她将一大把小小的诗笺撒向雨中,请雨水去品读。她总这样,将心底的诗语,写给细雨,让细雨去吟咏那裹挟着童趣也躁动着青春的心机。 当她正像往常一样陶醉时,发现身旁有个男孩拾起一纸诗笺。她的双颊蓦地红了——她的诗只属于雨,怎能让一个男孩看呢?再说,这雨天,这草 Rain dripping her face, his face crisp crisp, crisp heart. She scattered a large number of little poems in the rain, please rain to read. She always like this, the heart of poetry, written for the drizzle, let drizzle to chant the childlike heart also restless youth motivation. When she was intoxicated as usual, she found a boy beside him picking up a piece of paper. Her cheeks red - her poems belong to the rain, how can a boy look? Again, this rainy day, this grass