A blossoming plane flowers, like a string of purple wind chimes, swaying in the spring breeze. You just smile and look at it silently, the flowers are full of branches, and your heart is full of joy. Under the warm sunshine, it is extremely soft and charming, charming and charming for a season of quiet beauty in spring.
-- inscription
When the peach and plum blossoms are in full bloom, only the green grass is full of color.
In late spring, a flower event gradually came to an end, leaving only a fresh green, looking at the green world everywhere. No, in this green world, there is a kind of flowering tree, far away, you can see, under the blue sky, in the green field, tall, covered with lavender trumpet flowers.
When you haven't seen it, there will be a fragrant fragrance coming from afar, standing looking for incense and indulging in it. A blossoming plane flowers, like a string of purple wind chimes, swaying in the spring breeze. You just smile and look at it silently, the flowers are full of branches, and your heart is full of joy. Under the warm sunshine, it is extremely soft and charming, charming and charming for a season of quiet beauty in spring.
Every year in late spring, it is the time when the sycamore flowers are in full bloom. When you walk in the streets of the small town, sniffing the intoxicating fragrance of flowers, you can see the figure of plane flowers everywhere. Yuanwang, tall canopy, like clouds like fog, in the drifting away in the late spring, revealing the attractive Fangfei, swaying the charm of time.
Years pass by, time grows old, only memories can evoke those who once had a beautiful past. Just like at this moment, you walk in the spring breeze of incense, as if you walked into a distant story and met those who were once familiar with, those who snuggled up to each other. Just indulge in it, but never want to come out.
I still remember that when I was a child, I first saw the plane flowers, where my father worked in the city. In my memory, there are very few trees in the country. I think there are such flowering trees in the city. At that time, my mother would take us to live with our father every year. My father lived in two dormitories allocated by the unit, a neat row of dormitory courtyards, and many tall sycamore trees were planted in front of the door. Every year, when the wind blows, the yard is full of flowers. My friends and I pick up the purple trumpet flowers that fall to the ground under the tree, chase each other and get drunk in the thick fragrance of the flowers.
After work, my father would teach me to read, and every time I could remember that at that time I was not as high as the table of the eight Immortals, and my father would hold me on the table and teach me the words under his glass plate. When I could pronounce those words accurately every time, my father smiled with satisfaction and gave me some rare candies. As a reward, I immediately ran out to share them with my friends.
What a wonderful time it was to accompany me to grow up in this way! For me, who is not familiar with the world, Tonghua is my childhood dream, the city of my dream, and a fragrant past.
In high school, there are plane trees on campus, whether walking on the road or sitting in the classroom, the rich fragrance will bump into you. The best thing in life is to meet flowers and love. Is it the smell of books that permeates the fragrance of flowers, or the fragrance of flowers that makes time beautiful? Nowhere to think, anyway, love such a day, like a hit fate, like the encounter of life, even if short, is also a beautiful moment. That kind of amazing, that gentle, is the heart mark in the eyes, unforgettable, no matter how long the flow of time, she will be in the branches of the years, blooming the initial Yan ran, enchanting a pulse fragrant fleeting time.
At that time, when the youth was young, although I only read the books of saints and sages, and my ears did not hear anything outside the window, I could not resist the burning eyes. He is the monitor, thin and clean, tall, well-mannered and inarticulate. I have hardly spoken to him. He was in my back seat, and every time I entered the classroom, I could feel his warm eyes with afterlight and stared at me all the time. I bowed my head in panic and dared not look directly into his eyes. Occasionally, we all changed direction very quickly. But I could feel his shy and uneasy expression. At this time, the sycamore flowers outside the window are warm and unrestrained, a pair of flowers blooming to the appearance of non-stop.
This heartbeat lasted for a period of time, I quickly calmed down, because I understand that my responsibility is to be admitted to the university, only in this way is the only way out of my life, I can not think of the rest. From then on, I locked my heart, concentrated on my studies, and finally realized my dream of college, but he was unexpectedly defeated. Later, I heard that he went to a faraway place, and later, he went to sea to do business and became his own boss. But I don't know whether there is also the fragrance of tung flowers in the city where he lives, far away from the mountains and rivers. I don't know if I can still read the affection in your eyes when we meet again in the future.
Often, some people, some things, like the road, the scenery, will suddenly jump into your eyes at some inadvertent moment. You are dragged, and into the memories, into the past, those old stories, one by one in front of the eyes, as if yesterday. Do not need too many words, those moving scenes, warm and calm, now recall again, there is warmth and touching. So slowly, walked into the heart of the most beautiful scenery, walked into the eyes of a touch of gentleness, walked into a ray of fragrance in the years, walked into a line of poetry in fleeting years.
Standing under the flowers thinking, those far away time, like falling petals rain, there are purple memories and romance, there is childhood innocence and beauty, but also youth ignorance and dreams. I know that too many memories, too many stories, will always disappear in the long river of time, gradually drifting away without books. When I read it, there will always be many feelings in it, sad, happy, sour, sweet, green, all the chase, all the joy, all the dreams, are just a wisp of wind in the eyes, blowing gently. When I read it, it was a smile on my lips, and it was only common at that time.
Who has never had the confusion of youth? Those relatives whose blood is thicker than water, those who meet in the depths of the world will always warm the lonely life and beautiful green time. Although the past fades away and the flowers wither, the feelings of joys and sorrows do not wait for today to recall, the wind keeps the fragrance of the dust. Often recall, the love is also true, love is also pure, a flower, the wind has no trace.
In spring, the sycamore blossoms are full of fragrance. Spring, contains countless beauty and hope, presents a lot of freshness and charm, I would like to be in this season of spring, with a graceful, a book cut bright, pull a touch of romance, quietly keep a fleeting Qinghuan.
(Lian Yun / tr. by Robert Taylor)
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