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波特兰的雨,是过客的欢愉,洗尽奔波在路上的尘埃,一滴滴打湿干涸的喉咙。寄颜无所的时辰,它是一瓢清泉或甘露,擦拭着面庞,激发出歇斯底里的叫喊。无与伦比的平静后,迎来的却不是日光,而是雨声起伏不定的同一首瓢泼,患得患失的孩子只好继续走在路上。波特兰的雨,是繁华城市的牢骚,走过纵横交错的粉红色街道,走过人声鼎沸却愈发寒冷的中央广场,走过五颜六色文艺青年飘飘的步伐。雨水衬托着发动
The rain in Portland is the joy of passing, washing away all the dust on the road and dripping wet dry throat. Send Yan nothing when it is a scoop of spring or nectar, wipe the face, inspired a hysterical cry. Unparalleled calm, it is not ushered in the sun, but the ups and downs of rain with the same pouring, suffering from the children had no choice but to continue walking on the road. Portland rain, the bustling city of complaints, through the criss-cross the pink street, walked through the voice of the more cold but increasingly cold Central Square, walked colorful young artists fluttering pace. Rain against the launch