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叫做岁月的东西从我们的指尖滑过,水银一般。感觉得到时间的重量却悄无声息。当我还是个整天迷恋布绒娃娃的小女孩时,花季对一个幼小的心灵有着无穷的吸引力。总是不经意被16岁的美丽和幻想轻轻打动,就像蒲公英的种子飞落在小小的心田,在阳光下闪亮耀眼。新年的钟声就要敲响,不情愿地站在花季的尾巴上,依然迷恋着布绒娃娃,却忽然发现年少的梦想竟如肥皂泡般在阳光下破灭,花季只不过是万年历上特定的一个年限,如一片灿烂的天空,云淡风清。仅以此文,送给即将逝去的16岁。——题记
Things called years slide past our fingertips, mercury is common. The weight that feels time is silent. When I was a little girl who was obsessed with velvet dolls all day long, the flower season had infinite appeal to a young mind. Always inadvertently moved by the beauty and fantasies of the 16-year-old, just like the seeds of dandelion flew in the small heart and shined in the sun. The New Year’s bell will ring and reluctantly stand on the tail of the flower season. It is still infatuated with the velvet doll, but suddenly it is found that young dreams are shattered in the sun like soap bubbles. The flower season is only specific to the perpetual calendar. A period of years, such as a brilliant sky, clear clouds. Only this article was given to the passing 16 years old. --Inscription