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  • 2018
  • October
  • 11

A cloud of smoke and rain, a few wisps of light dreams

The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, as thin as a cicada, is held in the palm of the hand. If the feather clothes are worn, they will be broken with a flick.. Gaze at the light rain and smoke, like walking in a dream, mumbling, whispering, whispering, softly moving lotus steps, driving in the clouds, quietly and quietly, like a girl peeping at her lover for the first time, afraid that a slight negligence will disturb this ultimate beauty.     Hold a oilpaper umbrella, rotate it in the rain, and hold thousands of threads at the end of the umbrella. When I set foot in the wet bluestone lane again, countless dreams swarmed toward me again. I looked at them dazed and dazed, and they also looked at me on tiptoe with their heads tilted fondly.. I like them, just like the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. They emerged from Tang and Song poetry. They came out of Dai Wangshu’s rain lane. They came out of the magic story; They throw the glad eye, twist the waistline, with the charming and charming of their youngest daughter. They are graceful and staggered, with the breath of scroll and ink fragrance. I would like to walk alone in such a misty rain, gently close my eyes, pouting and kissing all dreams at zero distance. Put your luggage and umbrella aside. I don’t want anything disturbing my dreams. Let the smoke and rain caress my face and let Ren Yulu wet my clothes.. No matter how heavy it is, I can’t feel the feeling of flying at this time. These sentimental raindrops just moisten my dream. If I can fly, I can fly. If I can float, I will float; If I can get drunk, I will get drunk. If I can, I will put Jiangnan, together with the misty rain in Jiangnan, and even the graceful dream in the misty rain in Jiangnan into my pocket, and then I will cuddle up with them in the world of mortals like peas and carrots..     The moss on the stone wall is spreading all the time, just like my dream is growing in the misty rain.. The music in the deep lane was lingering in the humid air. The romantic atmosphere in the south of the Yangtze River is also dense with the feelings of businessmen. Their fingertips moved gently, and the wonderful music flowed out leisurely. Listening to the music of Jiangnan, I can’t smell any sunshine, but I can hear the lingering and falling sound of rain.. The music was wet with flowers, green moss, the tapping sound of the green flag, the old days, and the dream that loomed in the smoke and rain drifting gently through the ears, lips and attire.. When you suddenly turn around, it will suddenly float into your heart and live in your dream. When a smile blooms like a flower, do you notice that smoke and rain are like wine, music is like wine, Jiangnan is like wine, and you in the distance are already drunk and hard to wake up.     Jiangnan, like a butterfly, knows best how to attract guests. The signboard of the store was originally a very intuitive and simple literal in our north. But when you arrive in the south of the Yangtze River, every store sign is full of romance. Even if you don’t have much need, you are willing to stop at its door and linger for a long time, even standing in front of it for a photo to remember the beauty of this name.. If you love, meet coffee houses, flee to utopian flowers, only wait for you to come and meet’ these names are enough to evoke many beautiful fantasies and indulge your imagination. If Jiangnan is a poem, I would rather be a painting. If Jiangnan is a painting, then I would like to be a poem. I am willing to melt in the south of the Yangtze River like a misty rain, accompany the boat to gently overflow, lie down with a small bridge, dance with willow and play with flowing water..     Mountains and waters are more beautiful than lovers. Stop wandering and lie down on the clear water. Look carefully at your reflection and see if the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River has caught the romantic charm.. Another kind of amorous feelings, snickered between the corners of the brow. Jiangnan, Jiangnan! I’ll hide in your dream and get drunk. Then would you like to have a crush on me? Let me feel loved by you. Rely on your shoulder, bypass your sleeve and give me a loving and generous hug until I can’t breathe until the smoke and rain are gone.     Going too close is an injury, going too far is a pain. The misty and rainy south of the Yangtze River is the best miss not far away or near. Implicit picture, hazy poem, light sorrow in the brow and sweet dreams in the corners of the mouth. Tired stretch Shu Yun sleeve, and listen to the jade dew flower language, sound slow.