在青春优美的歌唱中,我们这些花季中的少年不知疲倦地旋转着,旋转过一季一季的花开花落。我们,终于笨拙地长大了。这算不算是一首稚嫩的童谣呢?听,那是触摸到柳枝的声音。和煦的阳光温柔地洒向大地,柔软的柳枝随风摆动着。正上一年级的我和伙伴们在游乐场,一人一个秋千,比谁能触摸到最高的柳枝。“啊,你看我够得多高啊,你们行吗?”“那算什么,看我的。”听,那是种子播下的声音。一个盛夏,我看着校园里一棵棵挺拔的大树,也 In the youthful singing, the youth of our blossoms spin tirelessly, spinning through the flowers of the season. We finally grew awkwardly. Is this a nursery nursery rhyme? Listen, it is the touch of willow branches. Gentle sunshine gently sprinkled on the earth, soft willow swinging with the wind. I was in the first grade and my partner in the playground, a swing for each one, than who can touch the highest willow branches. “Ah, you see how high I am, ah, do you? ” “What count, look at me.” "That’s the seed sowing voice. A summer, I looked at the campus of a tree tall and straight, also