Text picture|kiss the rain editor|swallow picture|network
Momo comes without a trace, and we meet again,
The musk orchid is still there, and there is no greenery in the leaning.
The prosperous branches are drunk with the spring breeze,
The hairpin and the phoenix are full of Zhu Yan,
The most difficult thing to keep in the world,
One The lodgings are all turned into mud mounds.
I always regret that the spring is short in the world,
It’s not like the wind and rain are fleeting,
Fang Fei is in the April sky, and the sparse hedgerows listen to the cuckoos.
The wind blows the green hills, the willow flute melodiously speaks to Xiao Guan, the wet clouds soak in the fragrance and light the cold, who cares about the peony and peony, One with half-brows, the other with spring noodles, and rhododendrons flying on the neem branches.
The most beautiful day is April. In April, there are the most beautiful flowers blooming in front of you, the softest wind blowing in your ears, the most beautiful birdsong melodiously in front of the window, and the unawakened dream will be awakened at dawn call you.
In April, when the warbler and the grass are growing and the flowers are about to fade away, the green fruit with its first soft bud, shining with moist light, hangs on the branches and hides under the leaves. Playing, quiet, growing, looking forward, like a teenager full of innocence and hope.
In April, the grass is green, and the trees are blooming with gorgeous flowers. This season, the grass is working hard, and the flowers are blooming arbitrarily. In the middle of the night, the lights in the children’s study before graduation are still On, everything is progressing safely, all the prosperous splendours are unfolding, and all the beauty is worth watching.
In April, there is a slightly smoky sunshine in the eyes, and you can see the infinite scenery, the passing water, and the dream of gain and loss.
In April, the wheat is jointing and heading, the partridges are flying, and the fields are covered with inula flowers. When I think of the willow waves by the lake in my hometown, I must have long been shady. By the ear, it wins all the silk, bamboo and elegant strings in the world!
About the author: kiss the rain, formerly known as Zhang Hui, from Huainan, Anhui, senior middle school teacher. I love literature, I like to read classics with my heart, and I like to perceive life with my heart. I have had a literary dream since I was a child.
Yidianhao Xinmeng Literature