The gentle and beautiful rainy day described by the writer

The drizzle is still falling, and the stream is covered with smoke

The rain falls quietly, with only a thin drop. Zhe Lili's voice. The orange-red houses,

look like old monks wearing bright cassocks, with their heads lowered and eyes closed, receiving baptism in the rain. ——Zhang Ailing

In the east wind, the drizzle of stars passing by my face is like the fluff of spring. ——Zhu Ziqing's "Drizzle"

It is misty rain, a heavy downpour, and a beautiful fountain; it slaps the eyes, and the countercurrent flows over the ankles; it soaks all the rain and all the memories related to the rain. ——Bradbury's "The Long Rain"

The drizzle continued to fall, and the stream was filled with smoke. ——Shen Congwen's "Border Town"

For a few minutes, the sky and the earth were inseparable. The river in the sky fell down, and the river on the ground flowed across it, turning into a watery world that was gray and yellow and sometimes bright and white. Yi Lao She's "Camel Xiangzi"

The sound of rain gurgling makes me feel like I am living by the stream. I would rather it rain every day, thinking that it’s because of you that the rain doesn’t come. A picture of Ai Ling's "Little Reunion"

The intermittent rain is like a piece of broken bamboo slips; words that cannot form sentences and strokes that cannot form words form an incomprehensible article. A brief note "Greetings from the Sky"

The rain fell on the apricot blossoms, and the rustling sound was not like the urgent rustling sound of autumn, but the rain of flowers like crispy spring flowers. Listening to the apricot blossoms and spring rain, what you hear is hope and leisure.

The young man is listening to Yuge upstairs. The red candle dims and Luo is disappointed. A young man listens to the rain and is a guest in the boat. The river is broad and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are calling the west wind. Now I am listening to the rain at the foot of the monk's house. There are stars on the temples. Joys and sorrows are always ruthless. Before the first term, every step until dawn.

The drizzle is as sad as a song, and the fallen leaves are as graceful as dancing. —Shi Tiesheng

Days in the rain are always wet. I don’t know whether it is the rain or myself, which is always making this stream of light wet. --- Sanmao's "The Rainy Season Will Never Come Again"

I remember the spring rain of apricot blossoms in the south of the Yangtze River. The raindrops beat on the boat awning, and there is also the fragrance of pear blossoms in the rain. ---Ji Wei's "The Lyrics of Rain"

Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip, rain is still falling, sometimes dense, sometimes sparse, sometimes blank. --- Zhang Ailing's "Belt"

Rain is like silver-gray sticky spider silk, woven into a soft net, covering the entire autumn world. ---Zhang Ailing's "Autumn Rain"

Rain is common, lasting for three or two days at a time. But don't be upset, look, it's like cow hair, like flower needles, like filaments, densely woven diagonally across other people's roofs, covering the whole roof with a thin layer of smoke. The rain was like sifting through a sieve, thin and dense, and it kept falling. ---"How Steel is Made"