“渭城朝雨浥轻尘,客舍青青柳色新。”雨,是最寻常的,是自然的宣泄,是灵魂的净荡。喜欢雨,喜欢听雨,喜欢赏雨,更喜欢品味雨的愁情。闷热的空气中轻风来袭,这细小的力量渐渐增大。霎时间,狂风怒吼,吹散了草的披风,吹落了花的彩饰,吹乱了柳的长发,也吹走了散乱的行人。乌云低沉,我拿起伞,走出家门。狂风过后,世界是出奇的宁静,仿佛静静沉淀着、酝酿着什么。时间静静流逝,时光之力变得虚幻缥缈,也许是一个钟头,也许只有几分钟。 “Weicheng dynasty rain 浥 light dust, green blue willow new guest. ” Rain, is the most common, is the natural catharsis, is the soul of the net swing. Like the rain, like to listen to the rain, like to enjoy the rain, prefer to feel the rain of melancholy. Slight breeze struck the hot air, this small power gradually increased. All of a sudden, the wind roars, the wind blew the grass cloak, blown flowers decorated, blowing the long hair Liu, but also blown away the scattered pedestrians. Dark clouds, I picked up the umbrella, out of the house. After the gust of wind, the world is surprisingly quiet, as if quietly settling, brewing what. Time passes quietly, the power of time becomes illusory, perhaps an hour, perhaps only a few minutes.