春老师挥起了双手,但歌声显得很沉闷。很多男学生和很多女学生都往窗外看。远处的树丛中响着一把圆号。又是那个青年,吹了一冬天了,大概是想吹出山谷的声音,但他的山谷中似乎只有石头。“你们觉得吹得好吗?!”老师的脸色很难看。他重新挥起双手。歌声还是很疲倦。树丛里晃着一个青年的身影,闪亮的是那把圆号。青年不时停下来,往树丛前面的草地上看。圆号声吹出了山谷里鹰的盘旋。这家伙有门儿了,老师想。但眼前这些懒散的学生实在让他头疼。“来!重来, Spring teacher waved his hands, but the song seemed dull. Many boys and many girls are looking out the window. There was a horn in the distance in the bushes. It was the young man who had blown a winter, probably trying to blow out the valley, but there seemed to be only stone in his valley. ”Do you feel good ?! “ The teacher’s face is very ugly. He waved his hands again. Singing is still very tired. Shaking a youth figure in the bushes, shiny is the French horn. The youth stopped from time to time, looking toward the grass in front of the bushes. Horn trumpeted the hawk in the valley. This guy has a door, the teacher thought. But now these lazy students really make him a headache. ”Come! Come back,