"Spring" Zhu Ziqing

Looking forward to it, looking forward to it, the east wind is coming, and the footsteps of spring are approaching.

Everything looked like he had just woken up, and he opened his eyes happily. The mountains rose, the water rose, and the sun's face blushed. The grass sneaked out of the soil, tender and green. In the garden, in the field, lo and behold, a large field full of people. Sit, lie down, play two rolls, kick a few balls, race a few runs, catch a few times to hide. The wind is gentle and the grass is soft.

Peach trees, apricot trees, pear trees, you don't let me, I don't let you, are full of flowers to rush to the trip. Red like fire, pink like Kasumi, white like snow. The flowers were sweet; when I closed my eyes, the trees seemed to be full of peaches, apricots, and pears.

Hundreds of bees buzzed under the flowers, and butterflies of all size flew around. Wildflowers are everywhere: miscellaneous, nameless, nameless, scattered in the grass, like eyes, like stars, and blinking.

"Blowing noodles do not chill willow wind", nice, like a mother's hand caressing you. The wind brings some freshly turned earthy smells, mixed with the smell of grass, and the fragrance of various flowers, all brewing in the slightly moist air.

The birds nestled among the flowers and leaves, rejoiced, and played with their crisp throats and sang melodies that harmonized with the breeze and water. The piccolo of the shepherd boy on the back of the cow also sounded loud at this time.

Rain is the most common, three or two days at a time. Don't worry. Look, like cow hair, like flower needles, like filaments, densely woven obliquely, and a thin layer of smoke is caged on the roof of people' homes. The leaves are shiny green, and the grass is so green that it forces your eyes. In the evening, the lights are on, and a little yellow halo light sets off a quiet and peaceful night.

In the countryside, on the small roads, by the stone bridges, there are people walking slowly with umbrellas, and there are working farmers in the fields, wearing hats and hats. Their houses, sparsely silent in the rain.

There are more kites in the sky and more children on the ground. In the city and the countryside, every household, old and young, also rushed out, one by one. Relax and rejuvenate your bones, shake your spirit, and do your own thing. "The plan of the year lies in the spring", just starting out, some are work, some are hope.

Spring is like a doll that has just landed, it is new from head to toe, it grows. Spring is like a little girl, full of flowers, smiling, walking. Spring is like a strong youth, with iron arms and waists and feet, leading us forward.