My interpretation:
[laugh]
Winter rain, I don’t know who is the light of , I read less, but I know that the winter rain is the continuous coldness that penetrates the heart, just like the helplessness and desolation that tears evaporate in the corners of my eyes. The softness of winter rain and spring rain and the smoothness of summer rain, there is no more rich and enthusiastic content. It is the inevitable ending of autumn sorrows one after another, just simple coldness.
The clouds are no longer broken, the moon is no longer coming (I haven't observed the winter weather, I don't know if this weather is the law of winter), and there is no prosperity, only the cold wind and dry branches... The golden leaves are falling everywhere, and there are branches, they are piled up all over the ground, and every corner can be a place for habitation, silently, and I entered a dream like a hurry. Before waking up, the time in the world is still.
The breath of winter is getting stronger and stronger, the coldness is filled with my heart, yellow leaves are all over the ground, but the sycamore tree is full of branches (I don’t know what the sycamore tree is, I don’t know that it has this characteristic, I know that Four Seasons Green and Winter chrysanthemum have this characteristic). The leaves of tung tree are the most arrogant and will never wither easily. They want to interpret this moment of closeness into a heart-warming appearance. In the deep winter when all things are withering, they welcome the coldest wind. At this time, the huge leaves aimlessly leaped on the momentum, like the song of a river that condenses the entire process, flowing between this short and eternal world, wandering in the gentle melody of memory, the increasingly bitter water ice can only serve as a good helper for freezing. Time in this world has stopped because the dream of another world has not yet awakened.
