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飘飘洒洒，淅淅沥沥，醉人的小雨跃动起灵动的舞姿。我独倚窗前，静听冷雨，记忆似乎开始变得缥缈，最终定格在古诗中的雨…… Floating and sprinkling, pattering, the intoxicating drizzle dances smartly. I leaned on the window and listened to the cold rain. My memory seemed to become ethereal. Finally, it was the rain in the ancient poetry 雨·杜甫 Rain Du Fu 随风潜入夜，润物细无声。 With the wind into the night, moisten things silently. 是谁，凭栏远眺，锦官城内繁花似锦，好雨啊好雨，是你昨夜踏着轻快的步伐，唤醒了沉睡一冬的生灵么？ Who is it? Looking out from the fence, the city of Jinguan is full of flowers. How rainy is it? Did you wake up the sleeping creatures last night with a light step? 是的，春风和着细雨，对杨柳耳语一阵，杨柳就抽出了嫩芽；轻轻抚着小草嫩嫩的发梢，小草就轻轻地抽出了身子，抖一抖泥土，绿得那么羞涩；轻吻着花儿的脸，花儿的脸就红了。 Yes, the spring breeze and the drizzle whisper to the willow for a while, and the willow will draw out the tender buds; gently caress the tender hair of the grass, and the grass will gently draw out the body, shaking the soil, so shy green; kiss the face of the flower, and the face of the flower will be red. 这一夜，红了樱桃，绿了芭蕉，而这一切都细细无声。 | 
