Xiao Yu's Lyric Prose

Xiao Yu's lyric prose 1 Xiao Yu, you passed through the cloud that changed face and fell to the world, fell to the eaves, and flowed down the ravine intermittently, like a broken pearl scattered all over the floor. The moment you kissed the ground, you turned into a transparent pajamas and hung on the ground.

Are you a broken glass lamp or a thousand words sent to the world? You add a little sadness to the desolate air and get a little sadness. The intermittent shallow singing and whispering are quietly pouring out! I miss the bubble that swelled and burst in an instant! How many ordinary stories are more romantic and sad only because of your affection. You moisten the earth, inspire poets and soothe wandering wanderers. You make romantic people more romantic, sad people more sad, and homesick people more homesick. Hey, autumn rain, farmer's rain, poet's rain, you see, it is you who poetize this night.

Xiaoyu, listening to your crisp notes, my thoughts are overflowing and my mood is hard to hide. Tonight, I am completely insomnia for you! I am sitting alone in the hut, and the dim candlelight shines on your crystal face, and my thoughts fly with your graceful posture. You see, your lingering, soft, ethereal and free curtains seem to come from a poetic valley, which makes this monotonous courtyard and withered flowers and plants smart in the emptiness. You are more like a master of wind music, playing music in this quiet and faint night, which makes people fascinated, just like a fairyland, and fills the wasteland of the soul with poetry and ethereal spirit. I seem to see that time, like your face, passes quietly and grows quietly, youth is like rain, years are like rain, and all good past events and sad memories are like rain at night, which reminds me of that long-lost memory at this moment.

Xiaoyu, tonight I write for you, expressing my feelings for you, writing about your calmness, your free and easy elegance, and your purity and ethereal spirit. I read you quietly, got to know you, wrote about you and collected your bit by bit before filing the case. I want to record every touching moment. Xiaoyu, you must have hidden too many past events. You must have a lot of yearning. Let me enter your heart, just like you, precipitate all the irritability, wash and purify all the pain, embrace the earth with a crystal clear heart, and let everything be silent.

Xiaoyu, let it go. I bless you and me.

Light rain lyric prose 2 writers and poets love to write autumn rain and spring rain, but it is not easy to see which literary master or poet wrote winter rain. Maybe it's because they read too little and are ignorant, or maybe it's because they are scarce.

Masters love to write about spring rain because the intermittent spring rain promotes the growth of all things, and the tender green willow branches and the tender buds of grains give people hope. The deep spring and the cuckoo's cry in the middle of the night inspire people to forge ahead.

The reason why the master loves to write autumn rain is because the bleak autumn wind blows off the dead leaves on the ground with rain, which makes people sad and desolate; Yellow vegetation makes people sad and laments that life is short; The continuous drizzle in autumn night is even more imaginative.

Masters don't like to write about winter rain because it is cold, always accompanied by biting cold wind, and sometimes there are small snowflakes falling from the air. Who will praise such bad weather? I'm afraid there won't be many people who write lyrics through scenery!

Yes, no one will praise the light rain in winter, no one will praise it, and not many people will write their own feelings and express their feelings through the scenery. In winter, when it rains in Mao Mao, there are no birds under the dense clouds, and the low sky is almost suffocating; The distant mountains are blurred in the fog; The trees on the roadside are bare, and only the monster's claws point to the sky and reach out to passers-by, with strange and terrible shapes; The grass has been destroyed by frost and snow, so it has to hide its head in solid soil and sleep, waiting for the spring breeze to wake it up. In addition to pine trees and bamboo still struggling with the cold, there is still a little green, and there is no green all over the mountains. On rainy days, the road is muddy and muddy everywhere. Shoes and trouser legs were stained with mud splashed under their feet. After a little drying, it is muddy. Even some "wicked" drivers rushed past like wild horses, and mud splashed on pedestrians, making them covered in mud and even their heads hard to escape. After a little drying, it is naturally dotted with mud stars. When you come home in such a mess, your wife will surely be accused of "how careless".

It's hard to see a ray of sunshine in winter. The mountains in the distance are shrouded in a misty mist. The air seems to be frozen and lifeless. Only the north wind roared, only the cold. Few people go outdoors, and they can't hear the birds and flowers and the children's laughter. On rainy days, there is often thin ice on the roadside, and you accidentally fall down; Every door and window are closed, and everyone is trapped in a cell, or chatting around the fire, or fighting in Fangcheng, or listening to the kind words of "eat more when you are delicious" in front of the TV. Rainy days in winter are colder than cold, more than enjoying the beautiful scenery of nature, more than breathing fresh air, more than making people feel that life is boring, and watching the drizzle outside the window is even more sad and worrying from the heart.

Old age is like old age to the end of winter: the continuous winter rain is as cold as the old people's "snot pull" and "saliva drop"; The withered trunk is like the old man's "thin shell lacing" body; Yellow grass, like the gray and fluffy hair of the old man; The gloomy sky is more like the gloomy face of the old man, dull and lifeless, and the wrinkles on his face are like dark clouds in the sky, overlapping and overlapping; A day without sunshine and warmth is like an old man with cold limbs and insufficient yang.

The light rain in winter is so cold that everything is too cold and annoying. In the dead of night, the sound of "ding" and "dong" dripping from the eaves on the awning is endless, which stirs people's dreams and is amazing; Water drops and the sound of "Ding Dong" seem to hit the atrium instead of dripping on the canopy, which is sad and heartbreaking. The roaring wind also wreaks havoc on the earth, shaking the glass windows and secretly shaking them, which is even more chilling.

At the end of the year, spring has come. After the severe winter, spring blooms, and gorgeous spring appears in front of people. This is an endless law of nature. However, people, "vegetation in one spring, endless fun", people will not have a second spring.

Light rain lyric prose March, light rain kept falling. On rainy days, I came to the winding alley, under the eaves where you and I were sheltered from the rain.

Listen to the rain and look around you. Raindrops are ticking, pedestrians are walking, and you can no longer find the beautiful images you are familiar with, feel your even breathing, see your beautiful cheeks, and hear your silvery laughter.

In March, the light rain dripped, wetting my clothes and my heart.

It was also a rainy day in March that year. You and I came under this roof, and a little rain fell on the roof like a song in March. You smiled back at me, but made my heart tremble. My charming smile was engraved on my heart. The rain stopped, and you flew out of the alley like a beautiful butterfly, but I never got out of the rain lane again. Time stopped at that moment.

In March, when it was warm and cold, the rain was intoxicated, the earth was wet, and my heart was wet. Even if the sun is shining, I can't dry my wet mood. I got lost in the rain lane in the cold wind.

It was raining in March, and I came under this roof again and again, hoping to find my lost figure and take another look at your beautiful eyebrows and moving smile. How I want to hold your gentle hand and never let go. Now I come back empty-handed and hold out my hands. I didn't know it was all over until I took back my wet empty hands. Seeing my empty self, I can't help but feel infinite sadness and tears.

In March, it was drizzling and cold rain soaked my heart. Tears and rain are inseparable, so tears and rain flow on my face. ...

March drizzle

It's been falling.

The stream trickled.

Flowing in my heart

Like a jade hand

Soft and smooth skin

March drizzle

Indulge in missing

Moistened my heart.

Moisten that hopeless emotion

Tears and rain

Float to your sky

Can you feel it?

My tears in the rain

Open the window and a cold wind blows. It suddenly occurred to me that whenever I was at home, I would smell the fragrance of the soil in rainy days, mixed with the unique taste of the fields. I like the wet soil and the feeling of Monroe on the grass. I like to step on the wet grass and get my shoes wet, so that the mud is covered with red cloth shoes made by my mother. Then, when the sun rises, the thick soles are blown dry by the wind, and I see the mud become the support plate of the soles, and the whole piece falls off! Fun, fun! How fresh the air is in Xunyi. When the leaves turn green, the whole earth takes on a new look ... I always run all over the mountain, and Nantougou, which is close to home, has become the best place for me to pick game, visit exotic flowers and grasses and watch the wonders of ravines. Fishing shrimp, digging wild vegetables to catch scorpions, playing walnuts to pick persimmons, and digging up the earth in the sky, there is nothing we haven't dug. I crossed the ditch from this beam, covered in mud and sweaty, and ran home. Sniffing and kissing flowers, stepping on weeds, dipping in flowing streams, I am still unfinished and can't help but remember.

Always laughing when sleeping, snoring and falling asleep! I am afraid that once I leave, the mountains and rivers in my hometown will only be in my dreams! Now, I really can only rely on my only memory to catch shadows! How many times have I returned to my hometown, trying to find my childhood memories, but the ditch has been blocked. The strange narrow path that I stepped on when I was a child has now been eroded by the wind.

I woke up my sleeping son: "Baby, get up quickly, it's raining outside, and we went to school with a small umbrella …" "Mom, you use a big umbrella, I use a small umbrella, and the small umbrella is for children …" "Mom, it's raining, and the ground is clean …" In the eyes of children, the world is clear. Just like the new green in spring, the world is a bright future for children. The beginning of this year's cycle is the beginning of all new life!

Stepping on the wet concrete floor, I took my son's hand and walked beside the lawn where the street was already green. We feel the gentle drizzle falling in our hearts together. Looking at the busy city, I stopped to watch. Enjoy this short morning, Linwen Road Square is recovering and extending. New grass has grown in the garden and all the trees have sprouted secretly. They are scrambling to welcome the arrival of 16 spring day. Every grass and tree in this city symbolically tells busy people that spring is blooming. I hope you can enjoy it more!

The child was lying in my arms, listening to the wind. The drizzle falls all over the skin, making it cool and moist. We catch the first rain in spring with our hands. He grabbed my hand and said to me, "You are the most beautiful!" " "I was moved for a long time before I knew that he was immersed in the beautiful scenery and returned to the comfort and tranquility of nature. Or at that moment, we all felt the same care for the earth, love for spring, joy for life and longing for the future ... This rain moistened everything, although the footsteps of winter did not go far, and the air was mixed with chill. But I still saw the golden winter jasmine blooming early, and the peach blossom showed its bones and pink petals. Willow rendered a layer of light green, just like the ink dyed by the painter, swaying vividly in the wind. I told my children that spring is coming, and my father and I will take you to the suburbs. Flying kites, watching the winter jasmine, enjoying the peach blossoms, chasing ducks on the lake ... The children hugged me and kissed me happily!

We are always moved by someone and a scene! Even the place where I lived, because there are so many memorable and moving places! Is it the intoxication of scene or the intoxication of soul? We are always looking for, yearning for a better life, all happiness and the pursuit of a happy life. From the combination of artistic conception and scene, purity and affection ...

Come out, watch spring and enjoy every minute of your life! Love is traceless, rain is silent!

Usually, cars on the roadside are crowded all over the floor. Standing at the window in the morning and looking down, there are very few parked cars. The street was drizzled for a while, and it looked empty. On holidays, people like to travel to other cities. A large number of photos of foreign scenery appear on WeChat, and you can feel the scenery of another city with them while sitting at home.

Nowadays, communication and media have a large capacity and high speed, and because of the large amount of information entering our minds, I have become a little lazy. In daily life, you can know what is happening in the world by turning on your mobile phone. What? Cangshan Snow and West Lake Moon have become so close. But looking at the street outside the window, a feeling of being forgotten arises spontaneously.

Laziness is a disease that is easy to catch, just like poison. Especially in this kind of holiday, we find the most reasonable excuse and seldom rest, so each of us is lazy and feel at ease. I know some things can't be muddled along, but thinking about it will let nature take its course. However, we don't try to get rid of the poison of holidays. In the new day, it is still a repetition of the past days. Although sometimes we are anxious, we can't bear to part with it. The heart that once tried to do its best has been exhausted in this laziness. Who can save us? We can't get out of the predicament. We have no choice but to face the wall temporarily.

Really do your best and then let nature take its course. Don't push, don't spread it with your hands. Because of mediocrity, we are used to admiring people whose talents and values are Qi Fei, such as watching the leading actor in a drama. Appreciate their style of doing things, and feel that they are not surprised in life and are calm. Often immersed in the plot, it dilutes the time we should need to think independently. We need this space for independent thinking too much. Independent thinking is the soul of human beings.

The empty streets outside the window are filled with festive atmosphere. The flowers on the windowsill, blooming a little, seem to have completed their youthful time. But we are still watering, and there is an unopened bud at the top. We have been admiring its second flowering process and looking forward to its perfect blooming. Guess there should be no seasons in its soul, only days that should bloom in life.

On the table, there are autumn fruits, chestnuts and walnuts in the bamboo basket. Bamboo baskets are as exquisite as weaving, as exquisite as works of art, with smooth lines and wonderful workmanship, as if telling us the pleasing beauty that is close at hand and within reach. This weaver girl must be a diligent and quiet person. Only those who weave the years with their heart will have such works. This understanding may be superficial, but I clearly perceive his pursuit of beauty. He has always had a dream in his heart to weave the most beautiful flower blue in the world. Sometimes I stare at these flowers and orchids that are easy to buy when I go out for a long time. Beauty is the pursuit behind life and a sigh in the depths of the soul. To respect beauty is to cherish yourself.

We can't weave flower blue, but we can weave a future dream, in which we play the leading role, do what we should do and bring sunshine. Of course, there are bright moons in the sea and birds on the other side.

The light rain on the street outside the window is still falling, and the street is clean and shiny. On this Mid-Autumn Day, like a light rain, what dreams will it weave? Maybe there will be a different Mid-Autumn Festival next year.

We look forward to it together.

Light rain lyric prose 6 March light rain, pattering, pattering, the stream in the valley, going, going.

I have always liked the song "Light Rain in March". Open the calendar of March 1 day, and you will hear various versions of Xiaoyu songs: written, pictorial, chorus and piano. All the stories related to March and drizzle, and all the romantic thoughts related to drizzle and spring rain are interpreted wantonly and elegantly in this poetic season.

The light rain in March, of course, is a general term, and it doesn't have to rain on March 1. Whether it is apricot rain that wets clothes or drizzle as clear as the sky, in the first warm and cold season, the legendary spring rain is eagerly awaited. But this year's spring rain, like a long dream, has been saved for many days. When it is "ice on the cliff", it is ready to sprint. March 1 when the dawn just rose from the east, she quietly came to the world, whispering like an elf, melting into the dry land, wetting the yellow dead trees, listless wheat fields and a flight.

Going to work in the morning and walking on campus, I didn't realize it was raining at first, but I just vaguely felt that the road was a little wet. Is it really you? Light rain in March? How many people expected, how many people hoped, last night's dream was sad and sad. Mobilizing the senses to look for it, Chunyu seems to be infatuated with me again, like a simple naughty child, looking at me with suspicion and anxiety, while she seems to dance in the air and look around at me with a smile. Where are you, my child? Maybe you can't bear to look at my anxiety again, as if you know that your haggard and cracked heart is also longing for the baptism of spring rain. You gently touched my cheek and mysteriously touched my neck, like a dream. I smell your fresh breath, and I suddenly feel my joy. On the first day of March, dear Spring Rain, you arrived as scheduled.

In March, it was drizzling, and the stream in the valley kept flowing.

March drizzle whispered in my ear and hit my cheek. The familiar melody is ringing in my ears again. Face? Peach blossom? The mountains are green and the water is blue. The world of mortals is like smoke. Stroll in the rainy dream in the early morning, looking for traces of the years and touching the marks of the past!

Leaning against the window lattice, overlooking the poetry of "the grass seems to be near, but it is not"; Staring at the endless ripples on the lake, looking for the traces of lost love in lilacs in the rain; Close your eyes, Yao Si, and let the rain in the clear spring wet your once locked heart.

The spring rain in March washed away the haze of the depressed winter. The scales of the soul were removed by this silent spring rain. So-those red flowers, competing to reveal fragrance; Those grasses are scrambling to come up with the bright green of endless hope; Those seeds can't wait to rush out of the soft soil; Those happy hearts, in this drizzling spring rain, rushed out of their locked brows and let them fly freely in the colorful spring.

It's misty and rainy, and you put an ethereal gauze on everything and washed everything so fresh and beautiful. The whole world is like a newborn baby, as if everything has started all over again, the tree is new, and it seems that there will be green buds covered with branches soon; Grass is new, newborn, delicate and bright; Flowers are new. They are in bud. Even the mood is new, and there is only a refreshing and pleasant elegance in my heart.

Stroll in the infinite charm of the spring rain, listen to the touching story of the spring rain, and then let the spring rain warm your heart after the winter, like a touch of light green quietly falling on a page of rice paper, gradually rendering another kind of interest. Without the shelter of an umbrella, let the spring rain in March soak yourself incisively and vividly. Everything, how happy?