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睡前喝了一杯浓茶,静卧良久,了无困意,索性披件外套,坐于阳台听雨。淅淅沥沥的声音,不免会勾起阵阵回忆,思绪就像那雨点落地时溅起的波澜,在脑海中激荡起阵阵涟漪。曾以文人自诩,却已许久搁置刀笔,姑且抛开文风语式的束缚,也不追求所谓的辞藻华丽,任由水笔伴随着雨声的旋律,在黯淡的灯光里奏响一支平凡的歌曲。不知何时,迷恋上了一个人深夜泡好一杯清茶,于万籁俱寂中,平复自己年轻的心绪。或许,也只是在这样的夜里,才会真正地远离浮躁,归于宁逸。如果再来一曲滴沥的雨声,呵,那简直就是——精神上的盛礼。雨,还在不紧不慢地下着。紧了,则
Drink a cup of tea before going to bed, lying quiet for a long time, and no sleepy intention, simply a jacket coat, sitting on the balcony to listen to the rain. Loopy voices, can not help but evoke bursts of memories, thoughts like the raindrops splashing waves, stirring in my mind waves bursts of ripples. Has literary style, but has set aside a knife pen for a long time, let alone put the style of language constraints, nor the pursuit of so-called rhetoric, let the pen with the melody of the rain, in the bleak light played an ordinary song. I do not know when, fascinated by a man soak up a cup of tea late at night, in all the silence, calm down their own young mood. Perhaps, it is only in such a night, will really be far from impetuous, at Ningyi. If another drop of rain, Oh, it is simply - spiritual ceremony. Rain, still under the unruly. Tight, then