English: The sky here is exceptionally blue, surpassing the deep tunnel color of the sea; The air here is particularly fresh, better than the faint fragrance in the mountains; The flowers here are very touching, such as a river of spring water aroused by the staff in my heart; The transcendental spirit of people here is as euphemistic as nightingale, as white as snow lotus and as gorgeous as Asahi. It is she, my beloved Zhong Mian, who weaves this gorgeous sky with her notes, lyrics, melodies, colors, lines, landscapes, words and rhythms. When I was a child, I had a warm longing for Zhong Mian, so I looked forward to meeting her day and night. However, things did not develop as expected. Due to multiple factors, she closed the mysterious door to me. But I never gave up, even a glimmer of hope. Finally, my efforts brought the key to that door. Today, my blood has gathered with her, which is more powerful than the surging Yangtze River. It is bigger than the Baohe River. Zhong Mian, I'm struggling here. There are too few opportunities and turning points in a person's life. If you lose it, it will pass, and if it passes, it will be gone. So I asked myself: "How to control my life?" I know all this needs to be fought for. Although there are too many difficulties and hardships on this road, although I have the idea of giving up and retreating, although I have shed bitter tears and bitter sweat for crossing the other side of life. But the gardeners behind me never stopped. They bought me countless successes with their youth. Maybe they are the legendary heroes, no! They are heroes! Thank our lovely mother! In the alternation of the four seasons, she weaves blueprints for us with colored brushes. In the morning of winter, the sound of Lang Lang's books aroused my great ambition, and in the evening of summer, the warmth brought me cool comfort. Her tenderness is like eye contact; Her beauty is as bright as the morning glow. Zhong Mian, my mother, what you have is what millions of mothers in Qian Qian don't have! You, my mother Zhong Mian, what a beautiful instrument! What an elegant temperament! What a strong skeleton! What a charming smile! What a lithe figure! Appearance is more charming than angels! Intellectually, you have defeated the god that everyone worships! What extraordinary achievements shine on your weather-beaten cheeks! What magnificent music is contained in your broad mind ... Zhong Mian, my mother, let me take your hand to my sea and my future. Mom! Mom! Although you have experienced all the ups and downs, you will still shine with unparalleled wisdom! I like to fight for my blog.
English:
The sky is blue, and the enemy is the deep tunnel color over the ocean; The air here is fresh and has a faint fragrance than the mountains; This flower is very touching, like a river stirred in the hearts of staff; The people here are aloof, their voices are as sweet as nightingales, their hearts are as bright as the morning sun, and their shapes are as white as snow lotus ... She is-I love cotton, and she weaves the beautiful sky with her notes, letters, colors, rhythms, lines, words, backgrounds and legal interests. When I was a child, I had a passionate desire for cotton. I looked forward to her growing up with me day and night. Whether you like it or not, because of multiple factors, my superiors asked me to close the mysterious door. But I never give up, even a glimmer of hope. Finally, I managed to get the key to the door. Today, my blood has been integrated with her, more powerful than the mighty Yangtze River; The Yellow River is bigger than Pang Bowei. Cotton, I'm here to fight. There are too many opportunities and turning points in a person's life. Without the past, there is no past. So I can ask myself "How to control my life?" I know all these struggles, Pingbo. Although there are too many difficulties and hardships in this road, although the idea of having to give up and quit has sprouted, although bitter tears and bitter sweat have flowed through another section of life. But the gardener behind me didn't stop. They exchanged their youth for countless successes. Maybe they are legendary heroes, not! They are heroes! Thanks to our lovely mother! The changes of the four seasons have woven blueprints for us with her colorful brushes. In the winter morning, the book is full of lofty sentiments and ambitions, and in the summer night, the warmth gives me cool comfort. She is gentle as eye contact; Her beauty is as brilliant as that of Zhao Xia. Cotton, my mother, you are all mothers without Qian Qian! You, my mother sheep, what a beautiful instrument! What an elegant temperament! What a strong bone! What a charming smile! What a powerful figure! Now it looks more charming than angel's hair! In wisdom, you worship the gods of all enemies! When you have experienced the wind and frost of the years, what an achievement flashes on your cheeks! How generous mind pampers symphony ... Cotton, my mother, let me take your hand to my sea and my future. Mom, mom! Mom! Although you have withstood all the difficulties, you will still shine brighter than wisdom! I love Pinbo because of our cotton.
Qing Xue handwritten newspaper won't take that long, will it?