淅淅沥沥的雨如帐幔,似丝帘,轻轻地,柔柔地悬在天地间,玲珑剔透:又似母亲那温暖的手,默默地,动情地,抚着我的脸庞,滋润甘甜。那沙沙的雨声恰似春蚕咀嚼桑叶,又似天地在窃窃私语,朦胧而又充满了诗意。田野里绿油油的一片,禾苗挺直了腰杆,“刷刷”地为它鼓掌;池塘中鸭子欢快地拍 The pattering rain was like a curtain, like a silk curtain, gently and softly hanging between the heavens and the earth, exquisitely carved: like the mother’s warm hands, silently, emotionally, stroking my face, nourishing sweet. The rustling rain of that ash was like the silkworms chewing on the mulberry leaves, and the whispers of heaven and earth were whispering, yet full of poetry. A piece of green field in the field, the seedlings straightened the waist and “scrubbed” to applaud it; the ducks in the pond were cheerfully photographed.