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不必再说春蚕的故事,也不必再细数蜡炬的泪滴,千百年前李商隐大概未曾想到一首名为《无题》的寄情诗会被代代传唱,千百年后依然于众人口中朗朗诵出。“春蚕到死丝方尽,蜡炬成灰泪始干。”这两句原本描写红尘中缠绵情愁的诗,如今却转而成为对另一种情感的讴歌和寄托,而这讴歌的对象正是我儿时的梦想──教师。每个生命的成长,犹如一粒种子,在融冰后的季节里播种,然后悉心灌溉,方渐渐地生根发芽。当嫩芽顶开泥土探出头时,抬头看见的是天空、云彩、飞鸟与晨曦,当然还有耕作者的身影。
It is no longer necessary to say the story of silkworm, and it is not necessary to count down the tears of the wax torch. Li Shangyin probably never thought of a song named “Untitled” that will be sung from generation to generation. After thousands of years, he will still be among the population. Read it out. “Spring silkworms die to dead silk, and the wax torch turns into tears.” These two lines of poems that originally portrayed the lingering feelings in the red dust are now turned into songs and sustenances for another emotion. The object is my childhood dream-teacher. The growth of every life is like a seed. It is planted in the season after the ice is melted, and then it is carefully irrigated, gradually gradually taking root. When the buds open their heads and open their heads, they look up at the sky, the clouds, the birds and the dawn, and of course the cultivators.