河堤上的那只小鸟,腿儿很修长,嘴儿尖尖的,一身灰褐色的羽毛,眼睛顾盼生辉。此刻,它就站在那里,歪着头,静静地端详着我。细小的风儿吹过,拂起了它的羽毛,顷刻间它蓬松如球。哦,我惊喜地叫出声来,“你是我的不死鸟。原来,你在这里。”它似乎没有对我的尖叫表示惊讶。我走近了去,它竟没有飞离,它似乎也认出了我,眸子里闪过一丝 The little bird on the embankment, his legs very slender, his mouth sharp, a beige feathers, eyes look brilliantly. At the moment, it stood there, tilted her head and looked me silently. The tiny wind blows, blows its feathers, and for an instant it is fluffy. Oh, I cried in surprise, “You are my Phoenix. It turned out that you were here.” It did not seem to be surprised at my screaming. I approached it, it actually did not fly away, it also seems to recognize me, the eye flashed a trace