淅沥淅沥,嘀嗒嘀嗒，窗外落起了雨。雨丝，从半开的窗户溜了进来，调皮地舔着桌面。多情的雨儿哟，你是恋上了桌上残留的那抹书香吗？雨，轻悄悄地落着，落在无边的夜里，落在冬天的皮囊里，落在我的心坎里。
图片描述
可爱的书桌，可爱的书香，若醉，让我千年图一醉！
图片描述
忘不了窗外光影，连同狗鸣车响，慢消散，等记忆来收监，可好？
Drizzling, drizzling, drizzling, outside the window it is raining. The fine rain squeezed into room through the half-opened window, smelling the surface of table as if it is tracing the scent of books on the corner. Rain, the rain is falling quietly, falling into the vast darkness of night, the boring body of winter, the inner world of my heart.
好久没有听雨了，好久没有享受雨的欢唱了。
It turns to be a long period of time since the last appreciation of the rain. And also I don’t enjoy the concert conducted by the rain for a long time.
“少年听雨歌楼上，红烛昏罗帐。壮年听雨客舟中，江阔云低，断雁叫西风。而今听雨僧庐下，鬓已星星也。悲欢离合总无情，一任阶前、点滴到天明。”宋人蒋捷的听雨词，却也成了心曲谱。听雨，到底听的是心情，道的是心境，描的是时光的斑驳啊。
图片描述
你读书，和着窗外雨，生活无禅吗？如这就是！
When I was young, I listened to the rain on the singing floor,
Cloaked in the bed curtain, the red candles looked poor.
When I reached the middle age, I listened to the rain in the boat,
Facing the vast water and the low-hanging clouds;
For the west wind, the swan in alone well used its throat.
And now, I listened to the rain under the temple of monks,
My hair was nearly grey for the passage of some critical moments.
So ruthless were the separations and reunions, the joys and sorrows,
So long was the raining, drizzling from the very start to the end of night. The words wrote for the rain by Jiang Jie of Song dynasty, turning to be the true feelings of his heart. Listening to the rain, we listen to our mind, our mood, together with the should and would of the passing time.
于是，我想起了家乡的黑瓦房，想起了那排排茅檐，点点雨声潺。
Then, something was being put into my mind. It was about the rows of thatched roofs, the falling of those merry rains.
自我有了记忆之后，我总忘不掉，我家向着小路边的偏门。常常地，我会在听到屋檐上滴滴答答的雨声之后，就推开那扇门，倚门而立。我恭候着，哪怕多时，那场即将到来的雨儿的铿锵。那时往往是盛夏，偏门所对的也恰是一排盖着黑瓦片的民房。
I always bear in my mind, never failed, the side door facing that small country road since I was empowered to remember something. Usually, once I heard the drizzling sound of the rain on the roof, I will opened that side door and just stood there to wait the arrival of rain. I was waiting, regardless how long it may be, for the coming of the wonderful sound of rain. Then, it was often in the hot summer day, and what just faced the side door was invariously the household room covered with the black tilts and extending rows after rows.
耳边躁动了起来，鼻尖一闪而过雨滴落干土后氤氲开来的说不清的气味。不止有气味，依稀能听见吧嗒吧嗒的声音，像渴极了的樱桃小嘴，斯斯文文又迫不急待，吞咽有声。雨来了，可是盛夏的大雨、疾雨！瓦房那边，哗啦啦作响，好似无数手指敲起了瓶瓶罐罐。旋即，白练似的水帘挂起，直垂地下，恍若撞见了迷你的条条小瀑。我看得如此的痴迷，久久地出神，像欣赏着梦幻的史诗剧。
Something rustling was heard. Some unexplainable smell teased my nose. This smell was so strange, featuring somewhat the scent giving out as the rain drops sponged the dry cracked ground. Not stopping with the smell, I can also hear in an uncertain way the patter of the rains. So loud is the pattering sound, extremely resembling the tiny mouth of babies dabbling the water in a hurry way, but still scholar-like. The rain was on the way. It was the pompous, fast rain in the hot summer. At that side of tilted roofs, the crashing noise was heard, seeming numberless fingers played with bottles and jars. Soon after that, the rain was falling down, forming the water curtain, just like arising a wide piece of white cloth. It fell vertically to the surface of ground, presenting me one after another the mini cascade. For a long time, I was almost carried away, losing myself for a long long time just as I was appreciating the historical opera.
“可别一直站在门口，会招人嫌，知道吗？”听到妈妈的话语，我愣愣地回头，全然不知时间走了多远。再一看，雨帘变雨丝，天边又现西靠的太阳。
“Mind you that stopped standing for a long time in the middle of the gateway; or this would make you be welcomed by no people.” Behind me, my mother said with the mix of care and worry. I dumped and turned back my head, almost without the concept of the passing time. Looking again, I found out that the rain curtain was much narrowed, and the falling sun again appeared in the west side of sky.
小时候，如许的单纯。一场雨，一片雨声，就可以打发掉久长的一段光阴。那时的听雨，不如说是纯粹的赏雨，我就看雨的模样，我就听雨的喧嚣，我就嗅嗅雨后的万物生香。
How simple and pure my early childhood was! A rain and the sound of raining could help me beguile a rather long period of time. At that time, listening to the rain, in my mind, was actually a pure sightseeing. I just had a look at the fair figure, listened to the rustling of the rain, only to smell the perfume gave out by everything drenched by the rain.
时光一晃而过十几年的光阴。前些天，朋友圈塞满了缤纷的十八岁。人说，那是葬爱家族开年会；我说啊，是我们内心的怀旧在作祟。是的，十年一代人，那十年的光阴犹如落雨后的远山，潮湿又迷离。
More than a half of score was past due to the fast pace of time. Several days ago, the We Chat was crammed with colorful photos of the looks of their 18 years old. Some said that it was the annual meeting held by ones who were going to say goodbye to their youth moments. However, in my perspective, it was our nostalgia in the heart playing its part. Yeah, ten years is the span that can discriminate between generation and generation. But that period of ten years was just like the distant mountains falling behind in the rain, wet and misted.
窗外下了许久的雨，它还在下着。这是一场从入夜一直下到午夜的雨。我索性推开窗，让被夜雨浸过的一丝丝清冷，吹刮着我的脸，这丝丝的冰凉，凉得刚好，不温不火。
It has been raining long outside the window, drizzling till now. This is a rain that falls from the very early twilight to the late midnight. I might as well open the window, letting the slight cold soaked by the night rain blow in my face. I felt a bit stone-cold, however, just right for me.
雨，你是在诉说着什么吗?无休无止地，缠缠绕绕地。我依然坐在窗旁，敲着一个个可爱的方块字。这无边的浓稠的夜，盖住了太多白天的光怪陆离，能证明这天地还活着的，是你，这多情的雨。我会是你忠实的听者，听你，也听着内心的自己。
What were you saying? My dear rain. You were on and off for a long period of time, just like the nagging of a “faultfinder”. I was still sitting beside the window, typing the lovely Chinese characters one after another. The vastness and thickness of the night, covering almost everything special and strange in the daytime. What can be used to hint us the alive all-embracing was you----the lovey-dovey rain. Surely, I would be your loyal listener, listen carefully to your rhythm together with the inner one of myself.
听雨是需要心情的，是要有悠然闲适的心境的。这大半年来，这长大后走的越来越急的几个年头，下过的雨不少，少的是只是这般的清闲心。
The good mood, exactly even the carefree and peaceful mind, is needed in the processs of listening to the raining sound. For the most part of the second half of the year 2017, to a large extent the increasing fast pace of the passing several years after I had grown up, it was more often the situation of raining, however so pity the less and less times of such kind of free mindset.
我常对自己说，今生就过火一般的生活吧，蓬勃热烈，奔放酣畅。也许，不长不断的一整个人生，为数不多的几个宝贵十年是不容得我们倦怠蹉跎的。那就学学窗外的雨，你听，它的腿脚踏得可欢了，它的冲锋号吹得可响了，它的气势鼓捣的可足了，铺天盖地、浩浩荡荡。
I often say to myself: please lead a fire-like life in this present one, making it vigorous and vivid. Perhaps, the whole life which may only enjoy several precious decades, seeming in the suitable length, allows not all of us to be slaggish and waste it. Thus, just learn to the rain sound outside the window. Listen, the feet of the rain rustled in a hurry and happy way; it sounded like the trumpet playing loud; its vigor expressed so strongly, letting the atmosphere become more sweeping and susceeding.
“壮年听雨客舟中，江阔云低，断雁叫西风。”蒋大词人，赢了宋词，输给了江中雨。谁叫雨哟，有着如许的魔力，满满的带入感。而属于我的中年，似乎还像是被淡雾锁住的，略显朦胧的前方港口，依稀现形，却难揣其韵。到底，还跨着远远的一个多的年代。可这时光啊，它有着一双加急的脚啊，奋勇直追，于你不待，那可是它的看家本领。
“When I reached the middle age, I listened to the rain in the boat,
Facing the vast water and the low-hanging clouds;
For the west wind, the swan in alone well used its throat.”
The great writer of Ci(Ci is a poetic form, a type of lyric poetry, done in the tradition of Classical Chinese poetry, also known as Changduanju or “lines of irregular lengths”), Jiang Jie, put shame to the writers of Ci in Song Dynasty; however, fell from grace when facing the pattering rain in the middle of river.You were just hard to blame the rain for its magic power and the moving energy. As for me, unlike the great writer of Ci, there is still a long long way for me to go through before I collapse into the somewhat horrible middle age. So my feelings towards the middle age was just like what I had looked at a harbor ahead, colaked by the thin mist and looked blurred with the little sketch appeared but the essence hard to be perceived. After all, a long period of time, more than the length of one generation, is the span that can’t not be ignored. But, be fully aware, the pace of time would turn faster and faster. So, it is well versed in chasing tightly and accordingly it waits no man.
或许，我们的背后也都有这日日夜夜不断逼近的脚步声。像极了窗外这落雨，起初淅沥淅沥，继而嘀嗒嘀嗒，而后从噼里啪啦滑向哗啦哗啦。而这又何尝不是人生的鼓点？又何尝不是在用声音的分贝刻写生命的分量？
Maybe behind all of us, day and night, there was still the footsteps following tighter and tigher. It resembles so much the performance of the rain----- it was firstly drizzling, then pattering and last turning to the loud sound. Oh, could you say that it was not being the symbol of the time zone in our whole life?Or, even nor the description of the weight and worth of our life by using the decibel of the resounding sound?
窗外的夜雨，止住了。它那聒噪一个夜晚的嗓门慢慢喑哑至无声。我合起了电脑，站起了身。而我还在沉醉，醉倒在你那别有风味的一首首小曲。我着实寻回了儿童时代那份痴傻的神迷，可我永远找不回的是那份青涩懵懂，那份痛快淋漓。
The midnight rain outside the rain subdued. Its voice sounded rough and then turned to silent after the loud shout for one night long. I turned off the computer and stood up. However, I still lost myself in the thought and experience towards you----my dear rain, towards the songs of special charms played by you, the midnight rain. I truly found the crazy feelings that exclusivly belonged to my childhood, but what I can’t retrieve is the simple-minded happy and the whole-hearted merry.
踏上一条时光铺成的路。我的耳边又回响起了雨儿的尾韵，淅淅沥沥，滴滴答答。
I walked onto the road paved by the time. The lingering rhythm of the rain again wafted towards my ears----drizling and drizling, pattering and pattering.
中文稿：润玉2018.1.6
首译：2018.1.12
再译：2018.1.19
终译：2018.1.23