The silver thread in the black hair
Between light and darkness
It is the silk thread spun by the spring silkworm
The chalk in the hand
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Between one and the other
It is the bridge to knowledge
Thank you for your care
Thank you for your company
Many years later
I am just like you now
Standing in front of the podium
Looking at the children
Clear eyes
Raise your hands very high
Ah, because of you, the garden is so beautiful and the earth is full of spring!
The spring silkworms will not run out of silk until they die, and the wax torch will turn to gray before the tears dry up.
The silver threads of the crane's hair reflect the sun and the moon, and the fervent heart and blood will fertilize new flowers.
Rivers push us to the vast sea, and the dawn brings us bright mornings; dear teacher, you lead us to a magnificent life.
The teacher’s spring breeze bathes my heart every day.
Teacher, open the window and take a look. This garden full of spring scenery, this garden full of peaches and plums, are all saluting you!
Teacher, engineer of the human soul, who would not praise you!
Teacher, people say that you are cultivating the pillars of the motherland. It is better to say that you are the pillars of the motherland. It is you who support the backbone of our generation.
Teachers are cultivators and sowers of beauty. It is you who shine with beautiful sunshine and moisten with beautiful rain and dew, so that our hearts are green and full of flowers.
Teacher, the light of wisdom emanating from us will always shine with the spark ignited by you yourself.
Teachers are like candles, burning themselves and illuminating others.
Teachers are our reborn parents! Our parents gave birth to us and our teachers educated us!
Dear teacher, your sincere love has awakened so much confusion, nurtured so much self-confidence, ignited so much youth, and destroyed so many sails.
Without the nourishment of your thoughts, how could so many beautiful soul flowers bloom?
A three-foot podium, a three-inch tongue, a three-inch pen, three thousand peaches and plums in ten years Trees, ten years of wind, ten years of rain, one hundred thousand beams.
When three of us walk together, we must have a teacher.
As a role model in the world, I should learn from others.
The most glorious profession under the sun, the engineer of the human soul;
The three spring rains that silently moisturize things, lovingly illuminate the colorful candles
The three spring rains that silently moisturize things, nurture talents with determination. No regrets
The three spring rains silently moisturize things, and the February winds deliberately protect the flowers