Prose of Grain Rain Poetry Society

Lead: Grain Rain is here. Grain Rain is the sixth solar term among the 24 solar terms and the last solar term in spring. The following is the prose I shared with Grain Rain Poetry Society.

Grain Rain's Poetry Prose —— The rain in Grain Rain season can nourish everything, including mountains, rivers, fields, trees and plants. . . . . .

Thanks to the nourishment of Grain Rain water, plants are more flourishing and the land is more fertile. The rain in Grain Rain is the spirit that nourishes all things, and the happiness that nature gives to all creatures.

All the hopes of the cultivators began in Grain Rain. There is a saying: Before and after Grain Rain, we planted melons and beans. It shows that in Grain Rain season, all kinds of farming activities have reached a critical juncture, transplanting rice, planting a drop in spring and harvesting ten thousand kinds in autumn. Of course, there will be impatient farmers who will repair farm tools, level the land, buy seeds and fertilizers and make all kinds of preparations before Grain Rain arrives.

Grain Rain has the meaning of "Rain gives birth to hundreds of valleys". All the year round, farmers hope for good weather. Rain in Grain Rain is as expensive as spring rain, and it rains in Grain Rain, so farmers will be ecstatic, because it indicates that good weather will not be in vain and there will be a good year.

Grain Rain this two word, a thought, the in the mind will give birth to a warm feeling, as if there is a wet rhyme lingering. The clothes are wet and the apricot blossoms are raining, and the face is not cold. In Grain Rain season, the rain is apricot blossom spring rain, and the wind is willow oblique wind.

The spring rain is lingering, fluttering and spreading, moistening things silently, like a girl full of worries, infinite sadness and melancholy, and a person feels sad and melancholy quietly towards spring. Trees turn green quietly, as if inadvertently, bud leaves begin to bloom. Flowers are blooming, spring, magnolia, cherry blossoms, apricots, plums and pears. Spring means noisy.

It rained in Mao Mao yesterday, and the wind warmed the sun the next day. The fog has dispersed, and the willows are reluctant. Sunshine is like a thousand gold threads, dazzling and shining. It accumulated a chill of winter, vanished in an instant, and sun be the spirit rose. Even the soil and vegetation give off a quiet fragrance. The humble grass, insects, animals and plants in the corner are singing in harmony with the rhythm of spring.

Spring rain is poetic, lyrical and gentle, without the tyranny of summer rain, the impatience of autumn rain and the coldness of winter rain. Spring rain is more like a mother's hand, gently stroking the mountains and rivers, quietly conveying the affection in my heart. Mountains and rivers are green because of this passionate spring rain, and rivers wake up because of this passionate spring rain. . . . . .

Spring rain is like a poem, cool and transparent, lingering, filtering out the troubles and noise in the heart, filtering out the impetuousness and throbbing in the heart. When the world of mortals is rolling and you can't control it, you might as well take a bath in the breeze and drizzle. Those cool raindrops will make people awake and understand, and those thin winds will make people calm and wise.

Walking in the suburbs, the river is foggy, bloom willows fall in the mountains, and the fields are endless. There are three or two farmers in the field, busy with spring sowing, vaguely smelling the barking of chickens and dogs in the distance, and a wisp of kitchen smoke rises slowly in the mountains. . . . . .

The rain in Grain Rain is the water that nourishes everything.

Some white spots in Grain Rain's poetry and prose II, accompanied by the wind, quietly approached Taniguchi. Looking carefully, it turns out that the rain came quietly.

First I heard its voice, coming from the forest not far away, coming from the low grass slope-

Naughty light rain, it rains when you say it, sometimes it is big and sometimes it is small. I had to hide in the nearest valley. Didi, Huahua, shalala ... The sound of continuous drizzle gradually drifted to Taniguchi, and the valley was like an echo horn, and beautiful "music" floated from all directions in Taniguchi. The sound gradually becomes louder from small to far. Soon, holes are everywhere. Those notes are like naughty bugs, in my heart, here and there for a while; The light and soft notes seem to float in the air. I tried to reach out and touch it, but I couldn't. In the drizzle, the rocks, green leaves and branches with different thicknesses in Taniguchi have become the tune of music. The continuous drizzle is like a beautiful girl with long hair, sitting in Taniguchi, playing that elegant ditty one after another, tirelessly. The river is shaking, and the stone in the cave is like a handsome and mature uncle, sitting there listening to this intoxicating melody. In this beautiful melody, I even forgot that I was hiding from the rain.

Rain is like a magician. With the cooperation of Brother Sunshine and Brother Nature, it changed the color of the world in the rain with a wave of its hand, and everything faded, faded … light green, light blue and light yellow. . All colors look so wet in the rain, just like watercolor paints are wet with water. All the colors are dissolved in the drizzle, dripping with water, flowing into my eyes and my heart like a stream, which makes me feel extremely comfortable. I can't remember the color of the world in my mind. It's full of water and looks a little wet. In my opinion, even if Leonardo da Vinci, the world's top painter, is still alive, I'm afraid he can't do it. This picture composed of natural scenery in the rain will be unforgettable for anyone.

In my mind, at the end of the journey, the light rain suddenly stopped. The wind also sat down quietly and enjoyed everything in the valley. The valley suddenly quieted down after the rain. Suddenly, a loud birdsong broke the silence. I picked up a stone and threw it into the river, making a crisp sound, as if I were still immersed in the mood after the rain.

Knock-wow-ding-ding-wow-

It's like a symphony of valleys and drizzle ~

Prose III of Grain Rain Poetry Society passed through the glitz and noise of the world, fell out of favor with pride, and once again embraced Grain Rain Lake with a normal heart. With the light rain, the mood slowly stretches, and so does the rain. Only by getting rid of impetuousness and being more calm can we appreciate its interest and poetry and feel its exquisiteness and beauty. Lake Grain Rain in the drizzle is actually a vivid and thought-provoking poem.

"It's the misty guitar sound in the drizzle at night, singing softly at the window. I close my eyes slightly and listen to this poetic whisper ... "

A charming poem written by someone I don't know is dimly mapped in my mind. I stood in front of the window of Grain Rain Tan hut, watching the drizzle and listening to the lingering tune of Xiao Yu, and I was immersed in poetry. ...

"Seeing the sun in the palace is sad, and listening to the clock at night is heartbroken" is a bitter rain; "But now I remember that night, that storm, I wonder how many flowers were broken" is a lonely rain; And the rain rhyme of "big and small pearls fell on a plate of jade, humming and whispering-and then mixed together" became the sound of nature, blending with the streams in Grain Rain Lake. Observing calmly and listening with bated breath is a kind of edification and enjoyment.

"The small building listens to the spring rain all night, and the deep alley sells apricot flowers. The bluebird doesn't spread the news outside the cloud, and the lilacs are sad in the rain. " This is a poem in Lu You's The First Night of Spring Rain in Lin 'an. Should the Valley Rain Lake in Lin 'an be in harmony with the artistic conception of the ancients? No, standing in front of the window of Grain Rain Tan Wooden House to watch the rain, listen to the rain and taste the rain, the sorrow in my heart has already washed away the drizzle, and even a little worldly distractions that once emerged in my heart have turned into drizzle and drifted into the stream. ...

Through the misty rain curtain in front of the window, I suddenly found a hen and a nest of chickens hidden under the ancient ginkgo tree by the stream. The hen was stained with some rain, and several chicks hid under their mother's broad wings and leaned out their tender little heads. I don't know if Haw is showing off or calling for their companions playing in the drizzle. A little yellow dog walked across the mountain road by the stream. Little yellow dog shakes the raindrops on his body and looks so comfortable. Watching, listening, thinking, unconsciously, I forgot the time, the past and where I was. ...

I have always thought that rain is as alive as people, and the life of rain is to nourish everything on the earth. Don't people also dedicate themselves and create wealth to repay the society? What a strange thing life is! Sometimes it is not as weak as the grass on the roadside, and sometimes it is extremely tenacious. Still alive after all the hardships. The rain experienced lightning and thunder, and the wind hit the equally solid roots. In the constant disillusionment of dreams, people keep sprouting new dreams. Isn't this a kind of belief, a source of supporting spiritual life?

It is still raining. I stood by the window quietly, thinking. Melodious music flows in my ears, as if from outer space, like the sound of nature. The flowers and plants along the Tanxi River in Grain Rain are still so beautiful, and the ancient ginkgo trees are still so lush. I asked myself, are they also experiencing the baptism of wind and rain, sticking to their own beauty and persistence day and night?

Will people, souls and spirits living around it be purified and sublimated under their inspiration? After years of baptism, how long can this elegance and calmness last? Just like the glory of life, it is only a fleeting moment in the long river of time and space. Only the melodious notes played by the rain in Lake Grain Rain bring me infinite reverie.

The rain in Lake Grain Rain is the rain that brings people hope. The rain in Lake Grain Rain is the rain that awakens people's sleeping hearts. The rain in Grain Rain Lake is a thought-provoking rain; Rain in Lake Grain Rain ...