三月,春雨潺潺而下;思绪茫然的我,压抑着心中的郁闷,无济于事;在雨中,我有一把很小,很小的伞,小到不足以依靠;伞下是我绵渺似的企盼,却随着那洒落的雨滴蹉跎成了泡沫;紧攥着手中的思念,思念的泪水随着伞尖那滑落的雨滴颤落;纵然双肩驮着风雨,我也不愿就此沉沦下去;然而我始终不明白,人们的心中为什么会有思念这一种情怀? In March, the spring rains down; I feel guilty of melancholy, depressed depression in the heart, to no avail; in the rain, I have a small, very small umbrella, small enough to rely on; under the umbrella is my dream like , but with the raindrops that have fallen into a bubble; close to the thoughts in my hands, the tears of my thoughts shook with the falling raindrops on the tip of the umbrella; even though the shoulders were full of wind and rain, I did not want to sink into it; but I Never understand why people think of this feeling in their hearts?