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初春时节,乍暖还寒。闲时漫步在清幽的校园,享受着千植吐绿,万物复苏的别样气息,心底封尘已久的角落也仿佛慢慢地轻启,融入一片暖意。似冥冥中一股神力牵引,不知不觉间,我竟又来到了球场,来到了这片无论欢笑还是泪水都曾经挥洒得酣畅淋漓的土地。场地上三三两两的学生正“杀”得兴起,我悄悄寻了个角落望向他们,佘晖中面孔早已陌生,而溢出的笑靥却分外生动熟悉。此时此刻,我什么杂念都不愿去想,只愿静静地坐在这里,把条条思绪编成一张张网,抛入记忆的湖中,捞取那一尾尾装着故事的鱼…
Early spring season, warm and cold. Stroll quietly in the quiet campus, enjoy the sparse vegetation, the recovery of all kinds of breath of all things, the heart has long been a cornerstone of dust closure as if slowly ignited, into a warmth. It seems like somewhere in a force of God traction, unconsciously, I actually came to the stadium again, came to this piece regardless of laughter or tears have swayed hearty land. Students in twos and threes on the venue are “killing” to rise, I quietly found a corner looking to them, She Hui in the face has long been strange, and spilled laughter is exceptionally vivid and familiar. At this moment, I do not want to think of any distractions, only quietly sitting here, the rules of the article compiled into a net, thrown into the memory of the lake, fishing tail that fish tail ...