You can listen to the rain here | Jianghua

Friends Wu Jing came from Jiangnan. I asked her to drink tea under the eaves of Da Ci Temple. Look at the bamboo chairs and wooden tables around, as well as the bauhinia and wild flowers born on the eaves, she said comfortably, "This should be a good place to listen to the rain."

She is a high postalist, working in Suzhou, and Wang Zengqi, who I love, is a fellow, and the Su Dongpo I like with her is all Sichuan, which also gives her a sense of intimacy. We met at a pen in Dali and have been in dynasties for many years. Today, this rainwater listening to the rain has brought closer our distance -because I am also a person with the same hobbies.

When I was a teenager, I didn't like the sound of rain and rain, because once I tilled on the roof of the tile, I couldn't go out to play. Parents are always saying, "It's raining, where do you run?" As an indispensable ban, the enchantment generally banned me in a small house. Looking at the rain, it became the main or even entertainment method. At that time, I could n’t read books, and I did n’t have radio and TV. I only listened to the sound of rain in the black huts, like a bean for a while, and then like a drum. After a while, like a group of little deer, whistling came, and after a messy kick, they whistled, and the hoof sound from the whole to the scattered, until it was scattered. My favorite, of course, the last voice of this end, which means that the rain is small and I can go out again.

At that time, I didn't know how to rain, let alone appreciate the rain. I can't even understand the meaning of the 13 -square -meter tile eaves on my head. What does it mean? What I perceive is its grievance, depression and imprisonment, and there is a dripping sound from all corners of the house every corner of the house every rainy day. Specific, Mu Ran, who hit the plastic paper on the top of the bed, and the empty hole hitting the lid of the pot ...

Only the sigh of the mother never changed, always a high, low, and finally a long sigh ...

The sound of rain at that time was the sound of suffering.

I really like to listen to rain, after the first love. Young people who are in love always like to go to places where there are few people, and a monument in my hometown park is naturally better. At that time, there was no popular square dance. There were often only three or two people who wrote or meditated in the stele forest. I and the girl who would copy a poem to me in each letter, always under the eaves of the gallery, talk about some of this. What can never happen in the world -such as a poem that can be hammed into a thin cicada wings, such as the wishes made by the Buddha in the first five hundred years of the Buddha? At that time, we always believed in some strange things. That scene is like "The Ting of Ye Ye" that I saw many years later. The green trees and quiet worlds are clean and fierce.

Good photography requires light, good love requires rain. At this time, the unexpected rain came in time, and the whole world suddenly became a musical instrument. Ren Yu was on it, tapping or hitting. The rain was like the curtain, and we surrounded us on the ancient theater in the center of Beilin. We leaned side by side, hoping that a rain would be a lifetime.

Later, I went to work in a small factory in the mountains. Love and many good things were far away from me. In the seven -year -old mountain life, I lived alone in a small black room with only a row of iron grid windows like a prison. "Thousands of years", spent more than 2,000 dark nights, the mountains in the mountains, all trees point to the direction outside the mountain, like the mood I want to leave. At that time, what my favorite did was to run to the eaves of the king temple not far from the factory to listen to the rain, watch the spring flowers and autumn leaves fall, listen to the sound of rain and wind chimes in the wind, and cut out the blue stone of the millennium. Traces of years. At that time, I didn't understand that "sitting quietly and listening to rain" was a state, and I didn't understand the nourishing and repairing effect of this tranquility on my soul. I just feel so comfortable, and every drop of rain is ears, which is comforting.

The sound of rain at that time was a medicine.

Later, I left the mountains, worked in the city, and rented in the home of farmers in the suburbs. The favorite is to hear the sound of rain from far to near, which means that I can give myself a half -day vacation. In the sound of the rain, the baby was dragged on the sleep for more than half a month or had a sleep that was owed to work. Of course, occasionally there will be hawkers who sell jelly or roasted potatoes next door because they cannot scold and complain about the stalls, but the sound of rain at that time can soothe everything. At least, I will dream of it. I will dream in my dreams. I fell asleep by myself ...

In my past half of my life, I also heard the rain of the raindrops hitting the pearls of the lotus leaf in the pond in Du Fu. That was my wife and I was unemployed. I was waiting for the recruitment of another unit. In this city, there were no half of the cottage that was broken by the autumn wind, but we heard it under the eaves. His pride and expectations; I am also in the old single dormitory of my hometown Shifang Department Store. My eyes are like a torch, so that I do not be trapped by the rain in front of my eyes, but I should put my eyes farther. There are both encouragement to me, comforting myself, and expectations of the entire human. We are like one old and one few people, and we are worried about the fate of human beings in the endless rain. That scene was solemn and sacred, and absurd.

For more than fifty years of life, he sighed like a sigh. Today, after I have gone through too much yin and failure, I still have a kind and happy state of rain, just like I have a sunny sun and every round of crescent moon. I started to believe that the wind and rain and the sourness and the bitterness are the indispensable scenes and tastes of life. My willingness has nothing to do, and the only thing I can do is to choose to get along with it. Planting is a kind of helplessness. This is meaningless to the rain itself. But I prefer to give some beautiful poetry from the meaningless to the water to liquid and the water. I am more willing to meet those who are busy in a busy life, occasionally stopped, looking at the sky or listening to the rain, listening to them, "Here you can listen to the rain." And smiled at them with a smile. Essence (Zeng Ying)

【Edit: Zhang Jing】

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