It was a rainy morning, we walked on the muddy mountain road. The mountain is not high, there are streams flowing away, and the cold wind blows.
Light rain. The rain whirled in the air and hit the face tightly. It was cold. This thin rain, extending to the distance, has finally become a curtain of white, covering everything in the world. We move forward in the rain, let the rain wet every corner of the body, from head to foot, from mouth to heart, there is poetry flowing in the heart, it overflows the heart, quietly overflowing "free flying flowers light like a dream, boundless rain thin as sorrow."
Road. The road was drunk in the rain and turned into mud. They Nestle under your feet and freely offer you the orange kiss. The road was drunk in the rain. I'm so drunk that I have no way to go. "How wrong is it? Is it safe today?" We stood in the rain disappointed.
Mountain. The road is on the hillside. The mountain is not high. She is not a tall and upright man in the north. She is a girl growing in this water town. Rain run wash, the girl more handsome, with a charming smile to meet us. So we got drunk. We abandoned the road, crossed the grass, crossed the brambles, helped the trees, climbed the boulders, and headed for the top of the mountain. The mountain's skin is warm, sending out the steaming heat: the mountain's smile is blooming, sending out the faint fragrance. This mountain can't compare with the "Tiantai 18000 Zhang, which is about to fall Southeast", but it is also so intoxicating.
Water. Standing on the top of the mountain, the remote town is surrounded by the water. An ancient water flows in my palm. We all spread out our hands and let the rain gather on it. In a flash, those small ditches filled up, converged into small streams, streams, rivers, seas and finally a vast ocean. We are all moved, tears will sink into the hands of the sea. You know, standing on this mountain, we see a sea, which is the sea in our hearts, more turbulent than the real sea, wanton ocean.
The wind is blowing. "Wind, blow it up, shake my dull eyes, and make two streams of ripples. I will dip time with your love and fingers." I have forgotten the poet's name, but I will always remember it. The wind blows up, bringing the chill of the distance, the song of the distance, the hope of the distance.
We stand and salute the distance. This is a common climb, but also a fresh poem.
We all say that we should always sing poetically and live poetically.
Because this is our own song, our own poem.
Yeats said, "I will walk and sing.".
The article starts with the feeling of "rain", "road", "mountain", "water" and "wind" in the travel, and ingeniously points out the inscription that people should "always sing poetically and live poetically". The design is more ingenious and in line with the topic. The scenery is very delicate, vivid, fluent and beautiful in language, rigorous in structure, which gives people beautiful enjoyment.