With the development of the times, the concept of prose has changed from a broad sense to a narrow sense, and has been influenced by Western culture. Prose is a narrative literary genre that expresses the author's true feelings and has a flexible writing style. Below is the prose I compiled about "Drunk in the Bamboo Pavilion and Listening to the Rain." You are welcome to collect and read it.
Drunk lying in the bamboo pavilion listening to the sound of rain
In the summer evening, a breeze blew through the bamboo forest in Cangsheng Park. Being a little drunk, I followed the wind and came to this large bamboo forest. In the pavilion, I leaned forward and sat on the couplet chair, letting the wind blow gently through the bamboo forest and sea of ????bamboo, also blowing my cheeks. Looking at this lush bamboo forest, I let my thoughts wander freely, and suddenly I broke into this bamboo forest and merged into this vibrant and vibrant sea of ??life in the bamboo forest. In the summer bamboo forest, she is dripping with green, overflowing with green, verdant and charming, which makes people fascinated. If at this time, a light rain comes happily, and I lie drunk in the bamboo forest watching the drizzle, and listening to the sound of rain in the green bamboo forest, what kind of "moving clouds are caressing, the running water is clear and moist" will it be like? Just when I was thinking that the sky would follow my will, a drizzle fell from the sky. This refreshing drizzle made the bamboo leaves rustle amidst the sound of longing in the bamboo forest.
At this moment, I am leaning forward and sitting on the joint chair of the bamboo pavilion. I quietly close my eyes and listen to the rustling of the bamboo leaves in the drizzle. It is like listening to the lullaby hummed by my mother, which makes my heart so happy. The child is quiet and comfortable in the bamboo forest, listening to the rain slowly settling in the bamboo forest. The rustling of the bamboo leaves sang a song, a song of light sorrow, but the bamboo forest knew it, and was afraid that the rustling of the bamboo leaves would startle the cicadas sheltering from the rain and disturb the perching birds. However, things in the world are like chess in the end, indifferently, the clouds roll and relax. In the drizzle of the bamboo forest, you can smell the intoxicating wisps of fresh green bamboo and green smoke, which is elegant and otherworldly, like a fairy. Oh, lying drunk in the pavilion of the bamboo forest and listening to the rain, what I hear should be a kind of artistic conception, a kind of yearning, a kind of long-lost peace and clarity in my heart. "The flowers fall to the ground silently, and the drizzle wets the clothes. Who am I asking?" A piece of paper has been aged for many years, and the ink has faded, amusing the years and comforting the time. Suddenly, the light rain came as promised. In the bamboo forest at that moment, the sky and the earth were silent, and the rivers were speechless... The heart was beating, the rain was making noise, the bamboo forest was rustling, and the light rain was humming. The drizzle is refreshing, the fragrance is fragrant, and the heart is relaxed and happy. The time is clear, the rain is falling like a continuous rain, the coolness on the fingertips stares into the distance, and the slight trembling in the heart soaks into the heart.
"Don't listen to the sound of beating leaves in the forest, why not whistling and walking slowly. The bamboo stick and mango shoes are lighter than the horse, who is afraid? A raincoat and a mist are all your life." I chanted Mr. Su Shi's "Dingding" Storm" walked out of the pavilion,
Walking on the stone road where the drizzle was falling, I felt contentedly and contentedly, feeling the coolness of the drizzle kissing my hair. The misty milk smoke flows faintly. Perhaps, because of the light rain accompanying the quiet bamboo forest at this moment, it has become less hot and more elegant, free and easy, quiet and elegant.
Walk slowly along this winding path, and stroll peacefully in the drizzle of the quiet bamboo forest in Cangsheng Park. "The rain washes the flowers clean, and the wind blows the delicate fragrance." The rain is agile and ethereal, and the bamboo is quiet and enchanting. Look, at this moment, the rain is gently beating on the bamboo leaves, and the crystal clear water drops are rolling silently and lingering on the bamboo leaves. The slightest drizzle fell in the bamboo forest and dripped on the bamboo leaves and branches. They were playing east and west, left and right, and they were having so much fun. Suddenly, the drizzle fell slightly, quietly and without a trace, moistening it. Listen to the poetic sound of rain and smell the refreshing coolness. The sound of bamboo leaves and the gurgling of raindrops, the continuous drizzle soaked the cool bamboo leaves, but the bamboo leaves gracefully cared for the fragrance of the nectar. The value is thick and thick, and the branches and leaves are covered with smoke. Their rain leaves are lingering, pattering, and the raindrops are accompanied by the gurgling clear stream, walking in tiny footsteps, turning around a thousand times and suddenly looking back. Suddenly, this impetuous heart is in this warm and quiet bamboo forest. Listening to the drizzle in this bamboo forest, a sense of wetness suddenly comes out. My heart instantly becomes clear and clear, and my mind is calm and natural. Free and easy, without nostalgia.
As I walked, I woke up from the wine, but my thoughts came up. It turns out that listening to the sound of rain quietly in the bamboo forest, I am waiting for you, and you are waiting for me. The heart is on the other side, and the love is on this side. Standing in the forest, the forest is in the rain. Listening to the rain in the bamboo forest washes away the emptiness in the heart. The rain hits the bamboo leaves, and the sound asks questions about the soul.
"The orioles in Guan Guan say that the flowers are slippery", I have thought about it countless times in my dreams, just like this, my heart beats slowly in this soft and ethereal artistic conception, and my thoughts slowly fly with this lingering voiceless sound, and then transcend that The mist was woven from curtains and curtains of mist, and finally I was happy to hold on to the cool raindrops I had been waiting for in my heart. But in a hurry, in a moment of panic, a breeze came, the bamboo branches swayed slightly, and the clear shadows danced diagonally. It instantly shook away the leisurely sorrow of this place, shattered the pieces of smoke and clouds with condensation and dripping green, and this Qianran's dream is intoxicating. It turns out that I was listening to the rain in the bamboo forest, and the bamboo forest secretly admired me in the rain. Listen to the rain in the bamboo forest, the rhyme is in the rain, and the music is in your heart. In this way, the bamboo forest listens to the rain, the rhyme is in the rain, and the love is in the music. The bamboo forest is roaring, the remaining flowers are withering, the wind is talking, and the rain is disturbing. I'm drunk, I'm awake, but you're asleep...
Yes, as long as you keep a piece of green in your heart, a curtain of rain, a sense of indifference, and no fear of honor or disgrace, then even if There are occasional temporary "coolness" in life, and even for a moment, "the mountain top is shining slantingly but we are greeted by each other", and it will never come back. The bright moon in the sea has tears, things change and the stars change several autumns. Who knows the dust in the world, how many thoughts will remain in the fetters. The bamboo forest listens to the rain, the rain cools the bamboo, and the bamboo moistens my heart. Xia Yu murmured, life is like a dream, life is so melancholy. Perhaps, it was already lost in confusion. Some people disperse as they walk, and some things fade away just by looking at them. There is too much nihility in life, and there is too much uneasiness in life. You should use the clear scenery in your heart and the clear scenery in your mind. It is best to walk into the long bamboo forest and enjoy the tranquility and tranquility.
The bamboo forest in summer is a touch of freshness permeating the heat. It is dripping with emeralds, overflowing with green, and indifferently expressing impetuousness. The gentle wind shakes off the scorching heat, but where is the drizzle? But from time to time it falls on the cool face and ears. Maybe at this time, there will still be those sounds, but who is it? Playing the sounds of nature, inviting people all over the sky in the rain, always in the drizzle of the bamboo forest, listening tirelessly to the power of the tall and straight green bamboos, never changing in your life? "The rain wets people's hearts, and the wind wakes them up." Looking at this lush bamboo forest, what attitude should people take to penetrate this bustling world and find a quiet place for their souls to rest? What kind of melody should be composed to penetrate the soul and recall the purity of the heart at all times? Oh, it turns out that I was lying drunk in the pavilion, listening to the rain in the bamboo forest, the rhyme was in the rain, the love was in the music, and the bamboos were always in my heart.
Other essays about listening to the sound of rain:
Lying drunk in the pavilion of the bamboo forest and listening to the sound of rain
Looking at the lingering autumn rain, sighing, one autumn rain after another cold.
After standing in front of the store for a while, gathering my clothes, I suddenly remembered that there is a lotus pond by Xiaoshui 15 miles away in the suburbs. In this autumn rain, I wonder what happened to the lotuses in the pond? But is it so beautiful that you just admire yourself? Or are the leaves and branches falling? Thinking about it, my heart and body moved. I put on my coat, took an umbrella, and disappeared into the misty rain.
Along the way, I still remembered the scene of watching the lotus pond with a best friend in the summer. The pond was full of lotus leaves, and a few buds that had not yet bloomed were standing tall and graceful, pink but not beautiful. Coquettish, dignified and comely. I still remember saying to my best friend:
"I wish I could build a hut here and have a pot of fragrant tea. How comfortable it would be." "Want to get away from life?" My best friend smiled and said:
"Lotus flowers only flourish in summer, and they will wither in autumn. That kind of scenery makes people sad and sad, giving people a sad feeling of 'leaving the lotus to listen to the sound of rain'. Will you still want to Stay here together? ”
It’s just as my best friend said.
When autumn comes, when I come here again, the beauty that once filled my eyes is "the fragrance of red lotus roots and the lingering jade mat". What came into my eyes were the incomplete lotus leaves and the desolate withered stems, some withered, some bent down, and everything in my eyes was desolate, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness.
I wandered by the lotus pond, sighing. I don’t know when the rain became heavier and heavier, beating the remaining lotuses, and I heard the lotus crying. Yes, the prosperity of the past is like a passing cloud. Now, the leaves have withered and the flowers have withered, leaving only the remaining leaves filling the pool. Isn’t it sad? The cool wind blows, the cold rain hits the residual lotus, ticking, ticking, overflowing a lonely pool, the raindrops ripple lightly, I seem to hear the residual lotus sighing in the rain.
I can't bear to touch Lian's frailty, just like I dare not discuss the weight of life, just like the smile after the lotus blooms, who can understand Lian's thoughts? The lotus blossoms and declines, from the attention of the world to the absence of people. Although it is just the reincarnation of all things, it is still remembered and sad by people.
The pond is full of desolation, the rain hits the remaining lotuses, and rustles, and suddenly I think of Li Shangyin's poem: The bamboo dock is dust-free and the water sill is clear, and the lovesickness is separated by the heavy city. The autumn clouds linger and the frost flies late, leaving the withered lotuses to listen to the sound of rain. I was in a daze for no reason. I couldn't explain why, but my heart ached slightly. Withered shadows on the cold pond, flower souls in the cold rain. The dead lotuses are speechless, but they can only hear the autumn rain rustling against the dead lotus, as if sighing, one sound, one sound, one sound.
Standing quietly by the lotus pond and listening to the rain, are the bits and pieces dripping into my heart as peaceful as the remaining lotus? Isn't it true that things in the world are generally like this: youth is followed by withering; beauty is washed away and pure; after the feast is over, there is silence; after prosperity, there is return; or after deep love, there is no words.
In life, we can all face the prosperous world with a smile and enjoy all the pleasures in life. However, when the prosperity is over and we are alone in desolation, how many people can truly "look at the court at leisure" "The flowers in front of me are blooming and falling" or "Looking at the clouds rolling in the sky"?
This is probably another realm of life. Hearing the remnants, what’s more important is a state of mind, isn’t it? I was speechless, but I understood it from my heart.
The rain beat on the dead lotuses, and fine raindrops fell on the remaining lotus, as if it brought a wet sadness to the lotus. Listening to the melody of rain hitting the lotus leaves, my heart gained a piece of tranquility after desolation and sentimentality. Some people admire the flowers when they bloom, and pity the flowers when they fall. Who said that only lotus flowers are so red in summer? The autumn wind suddenly blows, and the autumn rain falls one after another. Listen quietly to the sound of withered lotuses bearing the rain. As the saying goes, the lotus blooms in the heart, but it is not that the sound of the harp is better than the sound of the harp. Sound, this obsession, even if it dies, it can still generate thousands of different styles, all kinds of charm, and attract the love of the world!
The autumn rain kept falling, dripping on the ground, dripping on the remaining lotus leaves, ticking, ticking. The remaining lotuses are left to listen to the sound of rain. The autumn rain keeps falling, falling, dripping, dripping on my umbrella, ticking, ticking. The truth is, the innocence has disappeared without a trace, and the exquisite thoughts are hard to find. One person's umbrella, one person's remnant, I think about it a lot. It's getting late, it's time to go back.
However, after walking a few steps, I couldn't help but look back, and then left alone.
Lying drunk in the pavilion of the bamboo forest and listening to the sound of rain
A rain fell lingeringly under the night in early summer. Gradually, the heat wave brought by the day began to slowly subside, and the night also disappeared the hustle and bustle. The feasting and feasting showed shadows in the mist and rain. Those who have calmed down, don't disturb the wind in the willows in the smoke pavilion, or get drunk in the cloud bridge, just lean against the window and listen to the rain quietly.
The mist and rain in the early summer night blurred the vision, narrowing the distance of the distant mountains, allowing people's calls to reach your city on the horizon. I withdrew my gaze and counted the raindrops alone, one by one, hitting the bluestone under the eaves. The shattering water splashes were like my dreams, shattered all over the ground. Lonely person, let my steps cross your thoughts, and in the misty rain of this early summer night, let the dream be green again. Tick-tick, tick-tick, listen to the rain in the early summer night, and a stream will appear in your heart, quietly flowing with your thoughts. I opened the window to the melody of my heartbeat, closed my eyes and felt the raindrops flying over the window lattice and touching my cheeks. The coolness just neutralized the heat on my blushing face. I lowered my eyebrows, picked up an old story, and listened to the sound outside the window. Savor the sound of drizzle slowly.
I haven’t been able to listen to the rain quietly for a long time. Maybe I was distracted by the trivial matters of the mortal world? Maybe the noisy sound drowned out the pleasant sound of rain? Maybe it’s been a long time since I had the luxury of loneliness? ...Nothing! It's not that I don't want to hear it, I'm afraid that if I hear it, I will be led into the whirlpool of longing, and I will never be able to get out of the emotional circle.
The lilac flowers in the alley are blooming in the rain. Are there any girls like lilacs here? In this early summer rain, I looked for the shadow of the person holding the flower-folded umbrella. A drop of rain blurred my eyes, rubbing the flowered makeup, showing the simplicity of missing the person. The sound of rain in early summer is like a harmonious melody played by a harp and a harp. In the dead of night, you can listen to it in a dream that is not a dream. Just lean against an idle window, put aside all your thoughts, and just listen quietly.
The drizzle in early summer rustled outside the window and wetted a bunch of roses. It was hard to see how scattered it was in the night.
The drizzle also rustled on the heart, and people crushed their feelings into pieces and threw them into the rain. In the night, you could not see the raindrops shattering into pieces. Open the window wide, look out the window and let the drizzle of rain fall on the palm of your hand. Along the veins of the palm lines, it flows into interlaced traces. How much grievance can the depth of the emotional lines accommodate? My face is close to the window, and the early summer drizzle is on my lips, but it has a somewhat astringent taste, just like my tears of quiet night thinking. I hope these tears will not waste my deep feelings in the early summer drizzle!
Drunkly lying in the pavilion in the bamboo forest, listening to the sound of rain
The thunder continued to rumble outside, the raindrops were stingy and could not bear to fall, and the heat in the air had not disappeared. Standing in front of the building and looking at the dry world, patches of green are falling gracefully, without any power. Desire is a kind of intolerance, impatience, expectation, and a lot of fantasy. A silver light burst into the sky, tearing open the cracks, and the rain gradually fell. The earth rolls and moves, and the increasingly wet heart rests peacefully. Open your smile, stretch your whole body, and let out a blast of cool air, refreshing the world in an instant. On a rainy day without wind, it is a piece of music playing in the silence, ticking, ticking, and pattering. All things absorb the essence and are filled with the water of life. The flower buds bloom and the fruits are green. The withered flowers are knocked down by the moisture and buried in the soil to make the final nourishment. Fallen and reborn, telling the laws of all things, for those who love the great, they will be the great lovers.
The song "In the Rain" floats leisurely, as if seeing raindrops, umbrella pavilions, weeping willows, everything related to romance, and entering a fantasy world. Have a cup of Fairy White Tea. The silver is dancing, the tea tip is standing upright, and a young girl is dancing gracefully. She has been pregnant for many years. The fragrance of the tea is mellow and elegant, filling the heart and spleen. The world is like rain, revived, renewed, and cool all summer long.
When I like rainy days, I not only see the perfection in the rain, but more importantly, I blend into it. Every rainy season, we will be very careful. The beauty lies in preventing problems before they occur. The rain brings positive things. Sadness caused by disasters and dereliction of duty abounds. Walk on thin ice, be cautious, and make sure nothing goes wrong. So I can calm down, appreciate its beauty, appreciate and be grateful. Every time I enter the heart, it seems to be a sublimation of life circumstances. Put aside the tediousness and just watch the rain fall and listen to the sound of the rain naturally.
Some people say: "The most beautiful thing is not the rainy day, but the eaves where we escape the rain with you." Listening to the quiet rain, watching the flowers falling on the window and the rain falling, I seemed to have entered another world again, Come and enjoy the beautiful you and me inside. Come with me!
Roll up your trouser legs and wade across the river; throw stones and float them under an umbrella; moss on the carpet under the hibiscus tree; listen to the loud sound of frogs in the thatched house by the river; fall in the mountains and rivers, and relax for a while. Tranquil, enjoy a lifetime of memories...