念念不响必有回响
There is no echo when you read
Cuckoo shouted three times, and the world was full of spring—— Inscription门外的海棠开了，夜晚残余的月光薄薄地洒在她的身上。她在等待，等待春天，等待日出，等待春雨的洗礼。朦胧散去，露水打在海棠身上，她不得微微低头，在晨曦中内敛的地笑着，闪烁着灿烂的光芒。The Begonia outside the door opened, and the residual moonlight at night sprinkled on her. She is waiting, waiting for spring, waiting for sunrise, waiting for the baptism of spring rain. The haze dispersed, and the dew hit the Begonia. She had to bow her head slightly and smiled introverted in the morning light, flashing a brilliant light.不时有轻风拂面，人与海棠俱醉，无需言语，便勾勒出有关春日的无限回忆。细雨初怜湿翠裳，新晴特地试红妆。无人会得东风意，春色都将付海棠。这是杨万里对春日的无限眷恋。From time to time, there is a light wind blowing on your face. People are drunk with begonias. Without words, they outline the infinite memories of spring. At the beginning of the drizzle, I pity the wet green clothes, and Xinqing specially tries red makeup. No one will get the meaning of the east wind, and the spring will pay Begonia. This is Yang Wanli's infinite attachment to spring.记忆的出生时节，是奔跑在乡间的田野。油菜花开得不盛，含苞的，半开的，少有开得灿烂的几朵。三月里，正是油菜花烂漫的黄金季节。漫山遍野的油菜花香四溢，整个村落里，沉淀在一份淡淡的香气中。The birth season of memory is running in the fields in the countryside. Rape flowers are not in full bloom, bud, half open, and few are brilliant. March is the golden season of rape flowers. The fragrance of rape flowers is everywhere, and the whole village is precipitated in a faint aroma.蝴蝶悄悄立在油菜花头，静待花开。孩子也是闲不住的。奔跑在和煦的春日中。阳光落在他们脚下，一步一步迈向春天。或者说，他们就是春天。Butterflies stand quietly at the head of rape flowers, waiting for the flowers to bloom. Children are also restless. Running in the warm spring. The sun fell at their feet, step by step towards spring. Or they are spring.我在时光的间隙里，珍藏着对光阴的记忆。我常常站在老树旁看着他们嬉戏打闹，看他们伴随着浅浅嫩绿的春光肆意绽放，一派生机，触手可及。I treasure the memory of time in the gap of time. I often stand by the old trees and watch them play and play. I watch them bloom wantonly with the light and green spring light. They are full of vitality and within reach.当空气里的湿润晕染开，雨便淅淅沥沥地下着。每一株草都沐浴着春雨，生生不息。撑着伞，走在小巷里，品味这人间难得的清闲。喧嚣隐藏在细雨中。小吃摊未来得及收起的蒸笼，冒着热气。偶尔有几个老人三五成群的坐在家门口的石阶上，看着孩子在嬉戏打闹，身边的收音机里传出咿咿呀呀的唱戏声。他们仿佛是这个城市的过路人。静静的看着来往的人，看他们步履匆匆。不时问他们要去何处，他们走在岁月的冬季，却依然热爱春日的阳光，这阳光在他们的目光中，格外从容惬意。When the moist halo in the air opens, the rain patters down. Every grass is bathed in the spring rain and keeps growing. Holding an umbrella, walking in the alley, tasting the rare leisure in the world. The noise is hidden in the drizzle. The steamer of the snack stand was steaming before it could be put away. Occasionally, there are several old people sitting on the stone steps at the door in groups, watching the children playing, and the chirping singing sound comes from the radio around them. They seem to be passers-by in this city. Quietly looking at the people who come and go, watching them walk in a hurry. Ask them where they are going from time to time. They walk in the winter of years, but they still love the sunshine of spring. The sunshine is particularly calm and comfortable in their eyes.雨是最寻常的，一下就是两三天，可别恼。看，像牛毛，像花针，像细丝，密密地斜织着。Rain is the most common. It lasts for two or three days at a time. Don't be angry. Look, it's like ox hair, flower needle and fine silk, which are tightly and obliquely woven.雨后的情景也是美丽的。远处的青山被迷雾朦胧着。房子也被太阳熨上了金边，这是太阳对人间最后的眷恋。The scene after the rain is also beautiful. The green hills in the distance were obscured by fog. The house was also ironed in Phnom Penh by the sun, which is the sun's last attachment to the world.去散步吧，趁路灯还未亮起，和三五知己踩着微光，谈天说地。没有余晖的雨天是灰暗的，空气清凉，隐约可见梨花在暮色里摇曳，怪不得汪曾祺先生说，梨花的瓣子是月亮做的。待路灯亮起，我们在路灯下告别，各自归家的路拉得很远，我们的心却离得很近。Let's go for a walk and talk with our three or five confidants before the street lights are on. The rainy day without afterglow is gray, the air is cool, and the pear flowers can be seen swaying in the twilight. No wonder Mr. Wang Zengqi said that the petals of the pear flowers are made of the moon. When the street light is on, we say goodbye under the street light. The road to our homes is far away, but our hearts are very close.人间春味，是柳枝划过湖面，泛起点点涟漪；是雨后的黎明，呼吸新鲜空气的泥土的气息；是小燕子栖息在屋檐的呢喃私语；是青石小道上的向晚；是“杨花榆荚无才思，惟解漫天作雪飞”……The spring flavor of the world is that willow branches ripple across the lake; It is the dawn after the rain, breathing the smell of fresh air and soil; It is the whisper of the swallow perching on the eaves; It is the evening on the bluestone path; It is "poplar flowers and elm pods have no talent, but they can make snow fly all over the sky"忽如春风，一切不开心的事情都会被春风吹散。春天是希望，是梦想，是新生。没有一个冬天可以逾越，也没有一个春天不会到来。Suddenly, like the spring breeze, all unhappy things will be blown away by the spring breeze. Spring is hope, dream and rebirth. No winter can be crossed, and no spring will not come.Life may have twists and turns, but please believe that the spring is just right, we are young.
致力于中小学生作文，分享，点亮人生，作文让成长更精彩。每天进步一点点，让学习成为一种习惯！
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