Listening to Rain in Autumn Night

Listening to Rain in Autumn Night

2019-10-30

Late autumn night rain, ticking in the next. He sat alone, lit an incense stick, brewed a pot of tea, and listened to the rain quietly. The fragrance in the room lingered, and a sip of jasmine tea refreshed the heart. At this time I immersed in their hearts made of rain mood, there is a different kind of taste.

Ancient and modern how many people in this early autumn night like to listen to the rain quietly, because of the different state of mind, listening to the rain feeling is also different, listening to the wind, listening to the rain, listening to songs, different minds can hear different scenery feelings; listening to the wind, listening to the rain, listening to the voice, different people can hear different life posture; listening to the wind, listening to the rain, listening to life, the same rain can also hear different songs of life, but everyone's listening to the rain is listening to the soul dialogue seriously, listening to the true feelings of the rush.

This intermittent night rain, many people appear in front of me, as if I saw Du Fu listening to the rain in the thatched cottage on the outskirts of Chengdu: good rain knows the season, when spring will happen. Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently. This is to feel the spring rain; Li Shangyin is also listening to the rain at the edge of the bamboo dock: leaving residual lotus to listen to the sound of rain, although the residual lotus is defeated, the rain is pleasant to the ear; Yan Jidao's mood for listening to the rain is the independence of the fallen flowers, the light rain and the two swallows fly. Listening to rain is really a kind of enjoyment, wind and rain Xiaoxiao, both sad and sad, but also leisurely gratifying. A curtain of autumn rain outside the window, through the forest leaves in the heart, murmuring, the wind into the night. Quietly listen to the rain, hear its voice, listen to its tone, listen to its rhyme, hear a feeling, hear a trace of sadness, hear a resentment, hear a passion.

This intermittent autumn rain yo, can wash out a piece of fresh people's hearts. The morning rain in the city of wei is light dust, the guest house is light willow color new, the palace sees the moon sad color, the night rain hears the bell heartbroken sound, this rain is tears, this tear is also rain. The third rain on the parasol leaves, the sound of leaves is parting, this is parting rain, but also parting tears. Suddenly reported that the world has been subjugated tiger, tears fly for pouring rain this is ecstasy tears, ecstasy rain. Autumn flowers pale autumn grass yellow, autumn lights autumn night long. Autumn window autumn has not felt, that can help autumn cool autumn. These were Lin Daiyu's sad tears, but also her sad rain. The rain made her hear the sad voice.

Listen to the rain of ancient times, listen to the rain of today, listen to the morning and evening, the rain of the year after year, drench this person, drench this heart, I don't know what it is. The environment is born from the heart. This rain, love, already lost interest. Open the childhood diary, slowly touch the paper with his hand, the original full of childlike past is sweet, but it is like rain such as water, like smoke like a dream to go back. Now I have become a cold autumn night, leisure an old man. The murmuring of years, the beating of the rain in addition to the echo of the years, there are memories of the past and melancholy.

People to old age, already see through the world's miscellaneous, look down on the world's sadness, know why life starts, but also ready to go where. The intermittent rain, also has long filtered away the red dust impetuous, wash away the accumulated gloom. At this time, it seems that only the light rain of this tile house can make the soul breathe and life can continue. Emotions like the wind, the wind blowing, heart already broken, broken silent. Continuous Qingqiu sound, faint worldly feelings, faint heart pity, rolling red dust. All I have today is a cloud of water. Close your eyes and sit, feel a trace of drizzle cool air and a wisp of autumn wind drunk, with a falling flower silence, with a see through the world of Zen, quietly listen to this autumn fall, this autumn leaves fall, forget the prosperity of this world. I don't know when I put down the promise of Yunshui in the past, put on my Zen bag, went to the poor water, sat and watched the clouds rise.

Some people say that carrying a bag is a passer-by, putting down a bag is a return. Just live in the secular world of you and me, there are a few people can put down the prosperous world out of this world, pick flowers smile buddha, boil tea listen to rain, will be the world and forget? There are too many prosperous things in this world that don't belong to me. I don't want the world of the altar. I just want to be in an unknown alley, guarding the years behind such as water, guarding a cup of boiled tea, in a rainy evening, or a late autumn night, touching a cloud and water Zen heart, not empty, not lively, quietly sitting alone. The simple days into poetry, leisure time wielding ink words into paintings, but also planted some flowers; or grind ink to write heart, book a page of feelings accumulated in the bottom of my heart. Tired, lean on a soft chair to rest, brew a pot of tea, burn an incense in the furnace, suck a mouthful of tea, let bitterness slowly become sweet. There were only tables, chairs, doors and windows that had been washed away by time. There were a few ancient calligraphy and paintings on the walls, as well as a lit incense stick and unknown flowers. The interior was not beautiful or noble, but simple and quiet. Vanity was shut out, only mottled sunlight and fine dust fell quietly. Here, drink a cup of Zen tea, touch the Zen heart, listen to the drizzle of Jiangnan overnight, enjoy an apricot flower past. A pen of light ink, a description of thousands of scenery, a column of smoke fragrance, diffuse the fragrance of years, a mouthful of alcohol tea, enjoy unlimited Zen. In this way, in the time of a cup of tea, sort out the chaos of thoughts, and then with a touch of sandalwood seems to have nothing, return to the world, say good, never look back.

Floating like a dream, floating like clouds, think about it, everyone comes to this world like a passer-by in heaven and earth, how many people meet it, turn around and forget, just like the encounter in the journey, although some people brush shoulders with it, they must look back, just like this walk in the eyes. Fingers too wide, time too thin, life is really so short, suddenly look back, surprised that the years have suddenly late, those who can not bear to let go, never forget have become fixed scenery, a lot of things have gradually become pale, you only know that it existed, but have forgotten what kind of existence. Time is always related to vicissitudes, impermanence is the normal state of life, flowers bloom for a season, people live for a lifetime, only time is safe. Many things are destined to become stories, and some people are destined to become old friends.

Buddha said: people have eight hardships, birth, old age, illness, death, love parting, hate long-term, can not ask, can not let go. Perhaps, sentient beings living in the world, is to taste all the suffering, in exchange for the final sweet. However, regardless of the chaos of the world, there will be a day when the dust settles and the truth comes out. Sitting quietly, listening to the rain, slowly drinking tea, I found that the years of appearance still do not change, only the heart of the tea guest, and listening to the rain tea mood. In the fine rain and a cup of tea, once cared about honor and disgrace, care about gains and losses, but also can not put down love hate, are no longer important, behind, cloud cliff water wide, still water without waves, put down the secular backpack, it can be so light as the breeze, free and safe. Weeping willows ten miles lotus, ask cloud where the most flowers. Painted buildings are difficult to set sun and. Cold weather suddenly lonely people, time must be spent wine and flowers from listening to music.

Staring out of the window, I can't help but whisper a song "Yongyu Music * Autumn Night" drizzle autumn sky, quiet color, style such as water. The willow branches are soft, the tail of the firefly is shining, and the taste of early autumn has already been revealed. Jin Gui, fragrance floating in the wild, rice is blooming ears. Remember that year, unbearable to look back, Zen cup difficult to get drunk. Youth is no longer, time passes, smell the wild goose long cry. Looking back at the empty building, where is the old man? Outside the sky of Denghuo Village. Life is a dream, who can wake up first? There is no one to judge in this world. Ask the heavens, this night, may it last!