我看见栀子花枯萎了,在进入高三的那个夏天,纯白的花被无情的岁月打落,仿佛一去不回来的青春和友情。有人常把高三形容为“黑色的岁月”。仿佛那是一个一望无际的黑夜,看不到光明与希望,却能在朦胧中感受到一种未来的召唤。于是我更加无助,更加惶恐,更加茫然无措地四处摸爬。 I saw that the gardenia flowers withered. In the summer of entering the third year, the pure white flowers were knocked down by the ruthless years, as if they had never returned to the youth and friendship. Some people often describe the third year as “black years.” It was as if it was an endless night. Without seeing the light and hope, it could feel a future call in the embarrassment. So I was more helpless, more fearful, and I was more and more lost.