窗外,翦翦细风在街道上游走,才刚爆青的树叶微微耸动,春的气息便悄无声息地蔓延开来,在香甜的空气里寻找穿梭的空隙,一直透过我那碧青的纱窗,盈满了整个小小的房间。房间里还生着炉子,我这个人最怕冷了,每年的严冬都必有一番艰苦的挣扎,而在挣扎的印迹中,就处处都是炉子的留影 Outside the window, the whirlwind blew on the street, the green leaves just swayed slightly, the spring breath spread quietly, looking for the gap in the sweet air, always through my green Window screens filled the entire small room. There was a stove in the room. I was most afraid of the cold. Every year in the harsh winter, there must be a struggling struggle. In the struggling imprint, there are pictures of the stove everywhere.