小时候,家门前有一颗梧桐树,不高,伸手可以够着它的枝条,然后骑在它的脖子上向大人显摆。随着年龄的增长,我长大了,树也长高了。阳春三月,万物复苏,绿草盈盈,我爬上它的枝干,沐浴着阳光,稚嫩的声音充满了整个天空。朵朵白云浮在头顶,宝蓝的天空美丽光亮。夕阳西下,我倚靠在它的身上,用蹩脚的普通话一字一句指着给它读书里的故事。晚霞中,倒映着两个身影——我和梧桐树。 When I was a child, there was a plane tree in front of the house, not high enough to reach for its branches, and then rode to the adults on its neck. As I grow older, I grow up and the tree grows taller. Spring March, everything revives, green grass Yingying, I climbed its branches, bathed in sunshine, immature voice full of the sky. Blossoming white clouds floating in the sky, the bright blue sky. As the sun sets, I lean on it and point it in a poor Mandarin to the story in the book. Sunset, reflecting the two figures - I and plane trees.