Spring is a beautiful season; Spring is a strange season; Spring is a sacred season. Ah! Spring, let me sing that wonderful hymn for you!
Listen. In the distance, the stream began to thaw, the geese began to return to the north, and the tortoise was about to wake up. The beautiful spring girl sings the prelude of spring shyly and happily. Spring thunder rumbles, like the silent letters of nature, announcing the arrival of great spring.
Smell. Smell the unique fragrance of Sophora japonica, smell the freshness of "expensive as oil" spring rain, and smell the long-lost sweetness between the petals of the Spring Festival. On the Spring Festival dining table, beside the fire, there are banquets. The fragrance has drifted away in the joyful air. In one breath, we felt the breath of spring. It surpassed spices, fresh fish and sweet juice and became the most unique taste in our memory.
See. Look at teacher Chun skipping and holding the children's hands and leading them into the campus. Look at the Yangtze River and Yellow River running thousands of miles into the sea. Watch the tender bamboo shoots rush out of the soil and feel the warmth of the sun. Looking at the whole country, I am beaming. Koizumi runs water, young trees sprout, grass grows and birds sing. There are white clouds floating in the sky, like sheep and wolves. Under the bright red mapping of the morning sun, colorful and different shapes always let us expand our imagination.
Go ahead. Our lips, as if by some kind of magic, always say some poems about spring. "There are many rains during the Qingming period, and pedestrians on the road want to break their souls." "The most important benefit is that a year's plan lies in spring, which is better than a willow." Poets of all ages always praise the beauty of spring.