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四季短笛漪然
 
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《四季短笛:春》

小,说t,xt,天,堂

妈妈,去年我丢在河边的那条绿纱巾,原来是柳树拾去了!……

《芽》

一支小小的笔尖,蘸着晨雪,在阳光下画出一个嫩黄色的春天。

《纸船》

我想摘一片柳叶,做一条绿色的小船,把它放在映着天空的蓝色池塘里,和白云比赛。

我想采一朵桃花,做一条粉色的小船,把它放在映着晚霞的金色河流里,载着夕阳远航。

可是,窗外还在下雨……

于是,我用一张小小的纸片,做了一条白色的小船,把它放进雨水汇成的小溪里,让它和银色的雨滴一起,去寻找一片彩色的大地!

《春雨》

沙沙沙……沙沙沙……雨,轻轻地,细细地,洒在石板路上——洒在小木桥上——洒在小花,小草上——洒在我家的屋顶上。

弟弟,现在别去外面乱跑!天空和大地在说悄悄话呢,你知道不知道?

《朝霞》

我相信,天空一定也是一个爱画画的孩子,还有点儿粗心,像我一样。瞧,昨天夜里他准又打翻了调色板——清早起床,手上,身上,还满是没来得及洗掉的淡红和金黄……

《口笛》

清晨,淡褐的山岭还未被阳光唤醒,爱唱的布谷,也睡在湿润的树丛里只偶尔发出一两声呢哝。在这朦胧的寂静里,忽然,一个绿色的笛音,尖脆地响起——

不知是哪个顽皮的孩子,摘下山路旁刚刚长出的一片草叶,做成了一只口笛。

春天,却笑眯眯的,收下了他的歌曲。

《风筝》

三月的天空是那么高,那么轻,是谁用线儿把它拴住,不叫它飞走的?——让我们去放风筝吧!那时你就知道答案了。

三月的风爱在屋顶和云朵上跳舞,是谁给它披上了彩衣,插上了翅膀的?——让我们去放风筝吧!那时你就知道答案了。

《肥皂泡》

春天是从哪儿给我们带来了热乎乎的空气?

我知道这个秘密,它就藏在妈妈的洗衣盆里——当全世界的孩子鼓起腮帮,吹呀吹,他们嘴里的热气,就装进了春天的风里。

春天是从哪儿给我们带来了鲜艳艳的花朵?

我知道这个秘密,它就藏在妈妈的洗衣盆里——当所有的肥皂泡闪着光亮,落呀落,太阳的七种颜色,就溶进了春天的大地!

《棉花糖》

姐姐,明天带我出去玩吧?

放心,放心!不会下雨……嘻,猜一猜,是谁把天上的云彩给吃光啦?

《燕子》

外婆总是很忙,每天,她都要拿剪刀,在彩纸上剪出许多新花样。

燕子也总是很忙,每年,它都要用尾巴,给春天裁出一件新衣裳。

《蚂蚁》

蚂蚁,蚂蚁,你为什么总爱在墙角,爬来爬去?是不是,错把墙缝里透过来的阳光,当作了一滴蜜?

《蝴蝶》

姐姐,花瓣为什么会飞?

别说,别说,我知道了!

它们是要把春天带到没有花朵的天上去呀!

《蜘蛛》

我多想变成一只蜘蛛!这样,我就也能在迎春花丛上,给自己编织一只小小的银色吊床。

《蝌蚪》

一个个,水底的音符,同做着一个关于未来的绿色歌谣的梦。

《花朵小屋》

一夜的细雨……清晨的阳光下,满园的鲜花都争先恐后地打开屋门,炫耀着身上的珍珠和钻石。——噫,你为什么还关闭着门窗,白色的小花?

嘘……昨天夜里,一只小甲虫来我家避雨,现在她还没走呢。瞧,盖着有香味的被单,她睡得多甜!

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《四季短笛:夏》

?小说/tXt|天堂

一枚小小的花瓣,落在湖面上,只弄起一圈涟漪。

一个小小的我,扑进妈妈怀里,却荡开一屋笑声。

《阵雨》

一块又一块,被烤化的云,黏在天空上;像冰淇淋黏在妹妹的脸上。

妹妹用清水洗脸,不一会儿,就洗得干干净净。可天空却用墨汁洗脸,哎呀呀,越洗越脏——它急哭啦!

天空一定也是一个女孩子,要不,哪儿来这么多的眼泪呢?

《雨后》

雨后的树叶下,藏着亮晶晶的蜗牛;雨后的池塘里,装着水汪汪的蓝天。

可为什么,雨后的土地,却变得更脏了?

我问妈妈,她却笑着不说话,只是从澡盆里,把我轻轻抱起。

哟,妈妈也和大地一样!怀抱里飘出了一股湿漉漉的香气……

《彩虹》

妈妈,你见过天不下雨,彩虹就自己出现的么?——你说:没有。

妈妈,你见过黑云还没有来,雨点就自己往下落的么?——你说:也没有。

那么,好妈妈,你耐心地等一会儿吧。等到这纸上的乌云变成了雨,等到雨过天晴的时候,你就会看到,我给你的画里有多少漂亮的颜色了!

《雷》

天上为什么会打雷?

哥哥说:因为那里有许多人在打仗。

姐姐说:因为那里有许多人在盖房子。

我觉得都不对,还是问爸爸去,他准知道。

不过,现在最好别问,因为——爸爸的嘴里,也正在打雷……

《蘑菇》

下雨的时候,树林里传来喧闹的声音,我想出去看看,可妈妈不让我出门。

雨后,我跑进树林。瞧啊——他们的小伞还搁在树下!可是,撑伞的人都上哪儿去了?

《草莓》

你明明看见了我,我也看见了你。可你为什么要跑开呢,黑眼睛的小野兔?

现在,只剩下六月的阳光和我在一起……

我会变成一颗长满雀斑的草莓,躲在林间的草丛里,直到你寻着香味,来把我采去。

《枇杷》

夏日的果园里,枇杷树是一支支快乐的打击乐队。当温热的柔风荡起果实累累的枝条,夏天的足音,就在一枝枝小小的金色沙锤上奏响。

采枇杷的孩子,坐在树上。阳光下,他的小脸蛋也和枇杷果一样金黄。枇杷树啊,莫非他也是你的一个果实?要不,为什么他嘴里哼出的歌儿,都和你绿叶打出的节拍一样?

《牵牛花》

翠绿的牵牛花藤,爬呀爬,终于,触到了青天。

那一支支蓝里夹白的小喇叭,是要把晨空的乐曲,带回地面来么?

《风铃草》

一串淡紫色的铃铛,在风中轻轻摇晃。我要用什么样的小槌,才能把它们敲响?

《莲蓬》

躺在粉红色的摇篮里,莲蓬看见了什么奇异的事情?瞪圆了一只只淡绿的眼睛……

《汽水》

透明的汽水瓶里,是不是住着一条看不见的鱼?要不,为什么我一晃瓶子,就有许多慌慌张张的气泡从瓶底浮起?

对了,它一定是快乐地生活在一个汽水的海洋里。现在我把它的海洋喝下去了,它却还在我的肚子里,吐着泡泡做游戏。

《午睡》

细竹帘子"啪、啪"轻响,正午的阳光,悄悄溜进屋来,躺在妈妈的睫毛上。

嘘,留神……别让那只小小的蝉儿,吓跑了这个光明的梦……

《蝉》

高高的榕树,密密的树荫,树的巨影,像一片乌云,把阳光囚禁……

可是,你听:

知!知!那是谁在树上放声歌唱?

知!知!几乎没有停顿,没有低音。

知!知!只有一个音符,却引起了整个大地的共鸣!

是不是,只有在黑暗中长大的生命,才会这样不知疲倦地歌唱夏天,歌唱光明?

蟋蟀的乐队,在墙角的草丛里,为傍晚的演出调试乐器。

纺织娘的歌曲,等待着夜来香的花瓣,在月光下翻开新的词句。

可是,现在我还是更愿意做一只蝉,在高高的榕树上,和南风,和成千上万片树叶一起,用整个白昼来反复歌唱同一个音符:

知--知--知……

《蜻蜓》

绿色的池塘,睡了;满池的荷叶,低垂着眼睑;叶下的鱼儿,也要睡了……

蜻蜓却不肯睡。在黄昏空气的微波里,它不断划动着它那四只小小的,轻纱织成的船桨。

你在等着谁呢,大眼睛的船夫?请问,我可以乘你的船到池塘的那一边,到月亮升起的地方去吗?

《萤火虫》

我是住在草丛里的精灵;我是一朵花儿的眼睛;我在夜女王的迷宫里旅行;

我有一盏绿宝石做的灯笼。

放我飞吧,把我关在手心里的孩子——让我把我的灯,挂在忘了点亮星星的天空……

《蛙》

月光,把一片银色的纱帐,笼罩在寂静的沼泽地上。水面的浮萍,蒙着薄薄的糖霜;岸边的长草,泛着闪光的波浪……

是谁穿着黄柳条纹的背心,坐在草丛下?它为什么,惊讶得咧大了嘴巴?是不是,看见了月亮上的同伴?于是,忽然跳进了那明亮的倒影;在水面,只留下一个圆圆的波纹和一个快乐的颤音:呱!……

《竹床》

卖藕稀饭的老爷爷"笃笃"敲着木板;不知是什么鸟儿,在拍打翅膀;又一辆三轮车,穿过了小巷。在正午的暖风里,我的竹床是一朵金色的云,望着屋顶的蓝天,等待着飞翔。

夹竹桃在和自己的影子谈话;远处,汽笛和蛙鸣声交织在一起,又被风吹散。在半夜的星光下,我的竹床是一只银色的船,驶过篱笆的海洋,去追赶时间……

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《四季短笛:秋》

~小<说t xt++天>堂

一只捧着阳光的小手,悄悄地落在我的肩头。秋风来了,我就变成了一只小小的船,扬着无数片金色风帆,驶向另一个春天……

《月》

天上的窗户是圆的。夜晚,嫦娥妈妈忘了拉上窗帘,圆圆的窗户里,就装满了金色的灯光。

我的妈妈也忘了拉上窗帘。天上的孩子,会不会也把我家的窗户,看作一个方方的月亮?

《雾》

昨天晚上,一朵怕冷的云,躲进了大地暖和的被窝里……嘘,别吵。你没看见,太阳正悄悄的伸出手来,要把这睡熟了的小家伙,抱回天空的大床上去么?

《草地》

秋风,是个油漆匠。早上,它从太阳那儿领来颜料;傍晚,就去给森林里的动物刷墙。

我家门前的草地,就是它那把又大又软的刷子。瞧,在每一片草叶的尖尖上,都还留着一点儿闪闪发亮的金黄。

《老树》

天上的白云变大了,草地上的哥哥变小了;只有老树的树干还是那么粗,那么弯。我就像它一样:弓着身子,望着天。

天上的白云飘走了,草地上的哥哥睡着了;只有老树的叶子还在阳光下,轻轻摇晃。我就和它们一起,等待着,回到地面。

《葡萄》

成熟的葡萄是一颗颗甜蜜的心,它们在阳光下闪耀,是要把秋云的色彩,秋风的芳香,秋叶的舞蹈,还有秋雁的歌曲都带进它们酿造的一个又一个美梦里去……可是,那梦又不得不带着一丝酸味儿,因为葡萄架下,有孩子们的欢笑,也有他们的眼泪……

《蒲公英》

一团小小的白绒花,风一吹,就不见啦。

是风带走了轻轻的绒毛,还是绒毛化作了淡淡的风?

《野菊》

夏天,在这里,偷偷埋下自己的财宝,西风,却跳着舞揭去了所有的伪装。于是,每一个从这儿走过的孩子,都惊喜地看见了:一个有生命的黄金宝藏!

《枫》

是谁把阳光裁成了一片儿一片儿的,挂在了你的树梢上?

是谁把火苗穿成了一串儿一串儿的,系在了你的树梢上?

是谁把千万个孩子快乐的心,都衔到了这里,在淡青色天空惊奇的注视下,盈盈跳动在你的树梢上?……

《桦林》

谨慎的松树,怎么也不肯脱下自己那件已经有了褐斑的深绿大氅。

爱面子的杨树,佩戴着最后几枚金色勋章,还不忘把自己的影子描得又直又长。

桦树们却惊讶地瞪大了一只只黑白分明的眼睛——它们不知道是谁给大地铺上了一条这么大,这么美的棕色地毯。因为它们的眼睛虽然能够看见四面八方,却始终看不见自己的模样。

《芦苇》

清泠泠的小河水里,究竟藏着多少秋天的秘密?只有河滩上的芦苇知道。当我和它们在一起游戏,它们就对我哼唱自己谱写的歌曲。

圆溜溜的月亮上,究竟藏着多少好听的故事?只有我的爷爷知道,当我坐在他的膝盖上,屏住呼吸,他沙哑的嗓音就像无边的苇杆在风中起伏;他长长的胡须就像洁白的芦花,轻轻落在我的额上,使我阵阵发痒。

《吃栗子》

我最喜欢,在大大的衣兜里,装满刚刚炒好的板栗。

双手贴着热乎乎的口袋,我就变成了一只正在孵蛋的大鸟;

慢慢掏出香喷喷的一粒,就好像,我也从四十大盗的山洞里,拾到了一块沉甸甸的金币!

《拾稻穗》

太阳要回家去了。驮着满天金黄的云朵,他一点点地向山那边爬、爬、爬……

我也想回家去了。可是,哥哥的篮子,还没有装满。

哥哥,不要像太阳那样吝啬呀!也给田野里的小灰雀,留下几颗小小的希望吧……

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《四季短笛:冬》

。小_说_txt天堂

我梦见……冬天,被装进了一盏巨大的,晶莹的冰灯,把这盏冰灯点亮的,是我:一颗小小的火星……

《雪》

为了给孩子做件棉衣,大地一夜之间,愁白了头。

马路,房屋还有小树,都在清晨惊讶地发现:自己有了一件可爱的银色衣衫。

《冰》

妈妈,别怪我不肯起床。北风唱了一夜的歌,谁又能够睡好?瞧,屋檐不也在犯困?垂下了一根根透明的睫毛……

《梅》

是天上的孩子弄散了自己的花串?几点殷红,轻落在白雪覆盖的枝头上……

《水仙》

水仙是为谁捧出了那么多小小的银盘和金杯?难道在铺着鹅卵石的水底,也有一位小小的妈妈,在为娃娃们开宴会?

《雪人》

别笑,别笑,我知道我的雪人太小。可是,有那么多表情严肃的大雪人站在一起,难道就不需要一个快活的小宝宝?

别羞,别羞,我知道你觉得自己太小。可是,如果春天在大地上留下脚印,最小的雪人会第一个看到!

《麻雀》

燕子到温暖的南方去了,鸽子也回了自己的家;可是,麻雀却留了下来……

妈妈,我愿意做一只麻雀--我多想和它们一起,在雪地上玩跳房子!

《冬日的阳光》

雪地上,一点一点,亮得晃眼的是什么?蘸一点,尝一尝;哈,阳光的味道,像冰棒!

《打雪仗》

太阳红着脸儿,悄悄地,悄悄地摸进了雪后的桦林……忽然,一个雪球,迎面而来——哈,它被击中啦!

一群鸽子,从落日里飞出;莫非它们也听见了,雪的笑声?

《灯笼》

飞舞的雪花,倦了,悄悄躺进大地的怀里。

喧闹的灯光,灭了,山村的夜里,只剩下几颗星星的梦呓。

天空一样蓝莹莹的雪野上,却跳动着一个红彤彤的圆点。那是一盏灯笼,和一个提灯赶路的少年。

你往哪儿去,手握光明的无畏者?是为新年的清晨,送去红日一轮?

《窗花》

世界,是一扇小小的窗户,春,夏,秋三个画家,都用自己喜欢的颜色在窗上绘图;冬天,却拿来一块橡皮擦,抹掉了所有花花绿绿的旧图画。

现在,我是这扇窗户的主人啦!在大红的纸上,我剪呀剪……我要把红花红叶,种在屋顶上;我要把红星红霞,挂在树杈上;我还要把自己的影子,贴在天空——那块透明的画布中央!

《被窝里的游戏》

我是一只熊,睡在黑黑的地穴里。有时,我的肚子饿了,我就舔自己手掌上的蜜。

我是一只松鼠,藏在暖暖的树洞里。有时,我的耳朵冷了,我就用尾巴把自己裹成一个毛茸茸的凤梨。

我是一只鸟,趴在软软的鸟巢里。有时,我觉得无聊,就给自己编一支新的歌曲。

我是一只虫,躲在自己的茧壳里。现在我有点困了,我要睡上长长的一觉,然后,长出一对翅膀,飞去唤醒正在冬眠的大地……

《我相信……》

我相信,在每一片雪花上都睡着一个很小很小的孩子。待到寒风遁去,阳光再次亲吻大地的时候,这些孩子就会乘着春水,去做环绕世界的旅行。

他们也会在自己喜欢的地方安下家来。那时,人们就会看到:又一桠枝头绽出了新芽,又一朵花儿盛满了香蜜!

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《FOUR SEASONS TUNE》

。小%说^t*xt-天.堂

《if i were...》

if i were a road,a road across the contry,i would collect the flowers seeds from air,and let them grow up under my arm.

mom,you come to kiss me the early morning.when you are looking at the fairy way under your feet,i would be watching the white clouds float above your hair.

if i were a cloud,a cloud in rainy season,i would spit out the thinest thread to weave a web in the blue field,and catch the bright sun!

mom,you lead me to home at dusk.when you are holding the bunchs of sunshine,i would be following the rainbow in your hand.

if i were an ant,an ant with a weave needle,i would build a palace of leaves in the deep forest.

mom,your room in my palace would has a most beautiful view.the evening is falling.when you are sleeping in the greenlish bed,i would be lying on your bushy eyelash.

if i am a child,a child lived in a dream,mom,will you carry me in your arms,and listen for what i see in my dreamland?

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《SPRING》

(小/说/t/xt|天|堂)

mom,look at those willows!the green scarf of voile,which i lost last year,is picked up by all their twig...

(bud)

a small penpoint,dipping the mornings snow,paints a soft yellow tone of spring...

(paper boat)

i want a willow leaf to make a boat in green,and let it plays with the white cloud in the blue pond of skys reflection.

i want a peach flower to make a boat in pink, and let it carrys the setting sun on the golden river of afterglows brink.

but,its still raining...

so i make a little paper boat,and let it float with a rill of rain water,converging all the silver drops,to look for a new continent in colorful coat.

(rain)

rain,rain,rain,light and thin,drizzled on the stone path and the wood bridge, sprinkled on the little flowers and grass-blades,and spilt all over the roof of my home.

dont go out now,my little brother!cant you see?the sky is whispering some secrets to the earth with its strings.

(rosy cloud)

i think the sky is also a child who loves drawing and careless--just like me.

look--it must overturned its palette last night. in this morning,on its face without cleaning,here and there are so many rosy and golden paints!

(whistle)

in early morning,the hazel hill was not aroused by the first sunshine;sleeping in the humid bosk,the loquacity cuckoo only mumbled once in a while.in the blear and still air,suddenly,a green crisp sound is beginning to echo.

that is a rompish child by roadside,playing a greenness grass-blade to make a whistle.

and the spring accept his song with a bright smile.

(kite)

the sky of march is so high and light.who can tie it down with a fine thread?--lets go and fly a kite together,so youll find the answer.

the wind of march like dancing on the clouds.who give it the wings and the light clothes?--lets go and fly a kite together,so youll find the answer.

(bubble)

who bring us the warm air?

this is a secret in moms washtub,no one but i know--childrens breath bring the wind of spring,as they softly blow and blow.

where does the fresh flowers come from?

this is a secret in moms washtub,no one but i know--the soap bubbles make the earth blooming in seven colors of sun,as they wave to and fro.

(cotton candy)

my sister,may you take me out to play tomorrow?

oh,dont worry about the weather!it wont rain...hey,guess,who eat the clouds in sky completely?

(swallow)

grandma is always busy.every day she makes many paper-cut with a pair of scissors.

swallows are also busy now.every year they make a new coat for spring with their tails.

(ant)

ant,ant,why you always crawling at the corner of wall?you take a sun ray through the crack of brick as a blob of honey,dont you?

(butterfly)

sis,why these petals fly away?

oh,say no more, i understand!

they are delivering the springs colors to the empty sky,arent they?

(spider)

i wish i could become a spider...oh,how i want to weave a silver hammock among the primroses!

(tadpole)

one by one under the pool,the musical notes are together dreaming a green ballad of future.

(flower house)

it was drizzling all night long...under the first sunshine of morning,the flowers in the garden all open their doors and windows to flaunt their pearls and diamonds.

why,white fleuret,you still keep your gate closedown?

shh,a little drenched beetle came to my house last evening.and now it is still sleeping in here.look, with a coverlet of delicate aroma,what a sweet dream it is having!

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《SUMMER》

小_说t-x-t_天/堂

a small petal,dropping onto the lake, only makes a expanded ripple in the water.

and me,a little kid,throwing myself under moms arm, but make a brimming laughter in the house.

(shower)

one heaping onto another,the melting clouds glued on the skys face like my little sister with ice cream on face.

my little sister washes her face and awhile her face appears purely clean.but sky wahses his face with ink, gee! alas! the more his washing the more it blurs---sky bursts into crying.

the sky must be a girl,too,otherwise there can not be so much tears welling up!

(after the shower)

after the shower,sparkling snails hide under shimmering leaves; after the shower,the blue sky fills the bright pond.

why the earth,also after the shower,turns to be more dirty?

i question mom,when she is carrying me tenderly out of the bathtub,and she just smile in silence.

huh,mom is like the earth! there is a moist aroma waves from her bosom...

(rainbow)

"mom,have you ever seen such a scene--just rainbow without raining before?"--"no",you said.

"mom,have you ever seen such a scene--just the falling rain without heaping gloomy clouds before?"--again,you said,"no".

"so,my dear mom, patiently wait for a while. utill the clouds on the paper become the rain and the sun shines again after the rain, youll see how many hues in my painting for you."

(thunder)

why it is thundering up there?

"cause many people are fighting there(pitched battle)," elder brother says.

"cause many people are building houses(great mansion)," elder sister be speeches.

i can not agree with them, so i just go and ask my dad, he must know!

but it is not the right time for from his mouth it is thundering too!

(mushroom)

when it rains, noises were passing through the woods. if it was not moms shaking head i would have a look outside otherwise.

after rain, i ran into the woods. guess what?--so many small umbrellas were at the foot of trees! but who left them here?

(strawberry)

there is no mistake,you have seen me and i have seen you as well.but why are you running away,dark-eyed leveret?

now,there is nothing but the sunshine of june stays with me...

i will become a strawberry full of fleckers,hiding amid the bushwood,until you find me by the scent and pick me up.

(loquat)

during the summer time in the orchard, each loquat trees is a percussion band.when fruitful tresses wave in the tepid and mild breeze,the tune of summers footsteps are played as if on each bunch of golden sand-hammers.

the children sit on trees collecting loquats. under sunshine,his little face turns to be as golden as loquats.

"loquat tree,is it possible that he is one of your fruits? otherwise he would not sing with the same melody as you do!"

(morning glory)

such being the emerald morning glory, its bines climb and climb and lastly reach the blue sky.

is the each little trumpet,white embeded in the blue,going to take the melodies resounded in the sky back to earth?

(bellflower)

swinging in the wind is a string of light purple bells. which small pestle shall i use to make them ring?

(lotus)

lying in a pink cradle, opening all viridescence eyeballs wide, guess what strange thing a lotus happens to see?

(soda pop)

in the crystal pop bottle,there is an invisible fish, isnt it? otherwise so many air bubble wouldnt float up from the bottom restlessly, as i shake the bottle.

all right! it must be living happily in such a pop ocean. though i have drunk up all its ocean, it is still playing the bubbles in my stomach.

(nap)

as bamboo shade making its "pa","pa" at the noon, the light glided into the house and slept on moms eyelashes.

shh,look out..., dont let the little cicada scare this bright dream away...

(cicada)

1.

so much tall an aspen tree! his huge shadow is like a flock of cloud and within his shade the light is taken as a prisoner...

but, listen,

chirp...chirp...who are singing aloud among the leaves?

chirp...chirp...no stop,no bourdon.

chirp...chirp...but a tone and its tune is moving the earth!

is it that only a creation of the darkness can make a endless song of the brightness for summer?

2.

among the brushwood in the wall-corner, crickets band are attuning for the later performance in the evening.

to turn a new lyric in the moonlight,the katydids chanson is waiting for the evening primroses opening their petals.

but now id rather to be a cicada, above such a tall aspen, with the southwind and the thousands of leaves,spending all the day to sing repeatedly such a song:

chirp--chirp--chirp!...

(dragonfly)

falling asleep is grassy pond; all lotus leaves are drooping its eyelid; and fishes below the leaves are falling to a slumber...

but dragonfly dont want to go to bed. in the waving dusky air, it keeps on rowing its four little, light yarn-made oars.

whom are you waiting for----bulb-eyed waterman? excuse me, would you bring me a ferry to the other side of the pond, to the place where moon rises?

(firefly)

as a fairy living in the brushwood, and an eye of a blossom, i used to travel around in the nights-queens maze.

there is a emerald lantern with me always.

so son,set me free from your palm. let me hang my lantern on the dark sky for lighting the lost stars...

(froggy)

moonlight,with a silvery veil of yarn-curtain,is covering the quiet marsh.grassy duckweed on the water is under a thin piece of sugar frost; bulrush along the bank are glistening wavily...

in a yellow striped waist,who is sitting in the brushwood over there? why he is so surprise with mouth wide open? is it possible that he see his company in the distant moon?

and suddenly fall plop into that bright reflection; on the water,only left a round of ripple and a happy tremolo:"crack!"

(bamboo bed)

with knocking the castanets, "du-du",that old man is selling his lotus root porridge. and a bird is flapping its wings on the roof,while another tricycle comes through the quiet alley.

in the warm wind of noon, my bamboo bed is a piece of golden cloud looking towards the blue sky under the ceiling, and waiting to hover in the air.

rosebay is talking with his shadow; beyond far, the whistle and the croak gather together but then disappear.

under the midnights starlight, my bamboo bed is a silver boat sailing through the fenses ocean,and dreaming to chase the times wave...

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《AUTUMN》

。小_说_txt天堂

a hand holding sunshine,softly falls on my shoulder.as the autumn wind comes,i become a little boat sailing with ten thousand golden leaves,and going to find another spring...

(moon)

window in the sky is a round.when aunty in moon forgot to draw the curtain down,the conglobate casement was overflowing a golden light.

my mom also forgot to draw curtain tonight.is that the children on the cloud will take the window of my home as a square moon?

(mist)

last night,a cold-sensitive cloud hid itself in the warm quilt of the earth...shh,calm down.cant you see?the sun is carrying it in his arm and moving to the blue bed quietly.

(grassplot)

the west wind is a painter.he brought the paint of sun during the morning and dyed the woods for animals during the evening.

his brush,big and soft,is the grassplot in front of my home.look!on the each grass-blades tine there is a yellow hue shining.

(old tree)

as i climb,the clouds in air become big and my brother lying on meadow become small;only the trunk of old tree is just the same strong and curving.and i just seem like it,when im bowing and holding my head up to watch the sky.

as i stay,the white clouds is gone with wind and my brother is asleep in green grass;only the leaves of old tree is still weaving gently under the sun.and i just feel like them,when im waiting to go back onto the ground.

(grape)

the honey hearts are the mellow grapes;sparkling under sunshine,and with the crimson clouds,the fragrant breeze,the dancing leaves and the song of wild geese,they are brewing some perfect dreams...

but the children have given their laughs and tears to the grape vine,so that the dreams taste together sour and sweet.

(dandelion)

a round of white floss,trembling with a whiff and then to be unseen.

is that the wind dissolved the soft seeds,or their hairs changed into a light breeze?

(marigold)

its here that summer stealthily hide his treasures,and with the dancing of west wind all those masks have been put off.now every child pass the place is surprised to see such a storer of living golds!

(maple)

who cut the sunshine into parts and hang it on your branch?

who pull the flame on string and tie it on your twig?

who catch the hearts of ten thousand children and in a amazed gaze of the nattierblue sky,let them throbing on your treetop?

(woods)

the chary pine is not willing to get off his dark green cloak in any case;

the reputable poplar,wearing lastly a few of gold medals,still has not forgotten to paint his shadow long and straight;

and the birchs just wonder--who give such a big and pretty brown blanket to veil the earths face?though with their black and white eyes watching far and near,they cant see themselves all the same.

(reed)

how many autumnal secrets are there in the cool creek?only the reeds by the shoal know it.i used to play with their song murmuring to me.

how many orphean story are there in the circular moon?only my grandpa knows it.i used to sit on his knee with a deep breath.his husky voice sounds just like the reeds weaving in the breeze,and his long beard falling on my head feels just like the reeds tickling with a lignt and white floss to me.

(chestnut)

the hot chestnuts,filling my big coat pocket,always most please me.

clinging to the warm bag with two hands,i start to be a bird incubating its eggs.

slowly drawing one to eat,it looks as if i pick a piece of gold in the cave of the forty thieves!

(paddy)

the sun is going to home,and carrying all golden clouds on his back,he creep and creep to the hill gild.

im going to home too,but my old brother has not filled his basket with the paddy.

brother,dont be so miserliness as the sun!just leave a bit of hope to the sparrows flying on the bare field...

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《WINTER》

t!xt-天堂

in my dream...winter is encircled in an ice-lantern which is translucent and large.and it has been lit with me:a little glittering spark...

(snow)

for making her children a new coat,the earth has been working for a long,long night,and with a sigh her hair turned to white.

the paths,houses and trees,with a surprise at dawn,find the lovely clothes in a silver sight.

(icicle)

mom,dont blame me to be a slugabed.since the north wind has been singing for all evening,who could take a real sleep?look!hanging its crystal eyelashs,the eaves is falling to dream...

(plum blossom)

have the children of the heavens loosed their garland?some crimson flakes,with a light flight,fall on the the trees of white land...

(narcissus)

why are the narcissus holding so many small cups and plates in their hands?is it possible that a dinner party of dolls is holding under the river on the cobblestones land?

(snowman)

please,please dont laugh at him,though he is very small.but dont you think that so many big snowmen alining here just need a happy baby with the them as well?

please,please dont be ashamed,even though you want to be tall.but if the spring leaves her footprints on the ground,the lowest one can see it earlier than anybody else.

(sparrow)

the swallows have flown to the south;and the dove has been at its home.however,the sparrows stay with me.

mom,i just want to be a sparrow with them,flying to the snowfield,and my friends will play the hopscotch with me!

(sunshine)

do you know whats flickering on the snowfield?im going to make a dip and have a taste...ah,the sunshines flavour is as good as the popsicle!

(snowballs)

turning red in the face,silently and stealthily,the sun touched the woods after snowing...and a snowball,all at once,comes to him--ah,it has been shooted!

above the setting fireball,a flock of doves are winging.have they heard the snows laughs,too?

(lantern)

the snowflakes,fluttering and fluttering,now is tired to fall into the arms of earth.

the lamplights,flaring and flaring,now is used up to disappear at the village of the starry night.

but there is still a red dot moving on the indigo snowfield of the eve.it is a youngster on his journey with a lantern.

brave son,where are you going with the brightness holding in your hand?you are hurry to send a ruby sun to the new years morning early,am i right?

(paper-cut)

i know the world is a small window of my room.the spring,the summer and the autumn used to color it with their own paints,but the winter clean it up with a eraser.

and now,ill present the world a entirely new appearance!i cut and cut in the red papers...i plant flowers and leaves on the roof,i hang stars and clouds on the tree,and also i put my portrait to the heavens--just at the center of its glass clear screen!

(quilt)

im a bear,sleeping in the dark cave under ground,and licking my sweet hands to satisfy my tripe.

im a squirrel,hiding in the warm hole of tree,and wraping myself in my downy tail in the cold wind.

im a bird,lying at my soft nest,and tweeting some original songs in my leisure time.

im a worm,crouching inside my cocoon,and being ready to take a long,long hibernation.and then ill fly to arouse the earth from sleep with a pair of wing...

(i believe...)

i believe that on every snowflake there is a little child asleep.they are going to journey around the world with the rills of spring,as the wind flee and the sunlight warmly kiss the earth again.

they may settle in the new place for a glad reason,and then all people there will see:another twig becomes green and another bud be filled with nectar!

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