Go deep into the rain lane

Guo Zekun, Class 1117, No.1 Middle School, Yiyang City, Hunan Province

I wandered around the alley. Maybe I'm waiting for a rain, for a rain to crush the clouds, for the swaying rain curtain to show the beauty of smoke, for a rain wandering, for a beautiful encounter. As I hoped, the crisp tick rang. The rain falls obliquely, maybe it is a lingering acacia, maybe it is a sad long poem. I opened my umbrella and only listened to the rain. Some thoughts, some memories, sprouted in the rain and took root in the rain.

Looking around, the road visible in the lane has been soaked by rain, giving birth to a feeling of ignorance. Should I walk in?

Maybe "the courtyard is deep, the willows are piled with smoke, and the curtains are not heavy". When I walk into the depths of the rain lane, I will see a beautiful woman, Emei, frowning and sad, thinking about where my sweetheart is now, asking for flowers in tears and flying over the swing. Or maybe I don't recognize the deep courtyard at all, so I can only gently caress the door knocker with verdigris, and suppose that the beautiful woman must live in a "flower house on the moon bridge, a bamboo house with a locked window, and only the spring knows the place."

Maybe "I am wandering alone in a long, lonely rain lane with an oil-paper umbrella, and I hope to meet a girl who is as sad as a clove". When I walk into the deep rain lane, I will see the moment when Dai Wangshu and his lilac girl meet. Once two depressed hearts who couldn't find a way out met, they began to pour out freely and sigh after a brief encounter. They walked out of the rainy lane hand in hand and went to a sunny place. Or maybe they are still shoulder-butted, silently sad, indifferent and melancholy, and finally there is no parting below, leaving me to sigh and feel sad for them.

Maybe I'll walk into the deep rain lane and meet myself hanging around with a small schoolbag many years ago. She is eating mala Tang in a whimper. She is being bitten by a mouse by a grandpa with a gray beard. She is nimbly avoiding the big black dog. She and her friends are walking a great secret path. In fact, it is only a gap of about half a meter between other people's houses. Then I went over and gave her a bouquet of blooming camellia and asked her if she could let me walk this childhood that I have missed countless times again. How will she answer? Maybe I will spread the camellia and leave a sentence "I don't want it" and run away. Maybe I will give me a piece of coconut candy and tell me that she still has a piece of bubble gum. Maybe I can't hear her answer at all.

I can't walk into that deep rain lane at all. Zhuo Wenjun a thousand years ago has become dust, and the beautiful woman a hundred years ago doesn't know where to go. Dai Wangshu may have thought of Lilac Girl when he was dying decades ago, but I couldn't get it back a few years ago. The Tiepuling Lane, which has hidden my footsteps for four years, recently fell apart and built several seemingly spectacular buildings. Rainy alley, only remembered in dreams. I held an umbrella and listened to the rain. Under the umbrella, there is a stupid sound, flat and flat, flat and flat; On the umbrella, there is the sound of rain singing, flat and flat. Maybe the next second, a gust of wind will blow off my umbrella, and then it will be fine. A figure comes from behind, patting me on the shoulder and telling me that we can go forward together from the road.

what am I doing? Maybe this rain is just my imagination, maybe this alley is just my imagination, and I am just a passer-by who has been wandering around for a long time. If you can't walk in, why walk in?

Teacher's Comments

The article takes rain as a clue and extends in the poetic lane, which leads to a series of breathtaking pictures for readers. Whether it's Li Qingzhao's bleak and beautiful artistic conception of "the willow piles with smoke, and the curtain doesn't count" or Dai Wangshu's sadness and expectation of "hoping to meet a girl with a clove-like knot", it's full of poetry and profound artistic conception. In particular, it is worthy of recognition that the author is not confined to the stories of poets, but has met silently with the "self hanging around with a small schoolbag" in the rainy lane, or has realized the philosophy of life that "we can go forward together from the road" from today to the present, which has given thoughts and feelings extraordinary depth and breadth. This depth and breadth is the outstanding highlight of this article.

(Luo Xiaojun)