Xin Qiji once wrote in "Qingpingle·Village Dwelling": The eldest son is hoeing beans to the east of the stream, and the middle son is weaving chicken coops. What I like most is when my child dies and I lie down at the head of the stream and peel off the lotus pods.
The world of children is very simple, and their eyes are always kind and beautiful. That bell-like laughter and that childish smile added a touch of innocence to this complicated world. There is no trace of dirt in her clear eyes, and there is only pure joy in her childish words.
Piping down the valleys wild,
I played the flute and walked down the wild valley,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
piping A very happy tune,
On a cloud I saw a child,
I saw a child in the cloud,
And he laughing said to me:< /p>
He smiled and said to me:
'Pipe a song about a Lamb!'
"Pipe a song about a lamb!"
So I piped with merry cheer.
I played happily.
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'Piper pipe that song again.'
"Piper pipe that song again."
So I piped, he wept to hear.
I piped again, and he burst into tears.
'Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe;
"Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe;
Sing thy songs of happy cheer!'
Sing the happy song with your voice!”
So I sung the same again,
I will sing the happy song,
While he wept with joy to hear.
While he listened, he shed tears of joy.
'Piper sit thee down and write
"Piper sit thee down and write,
In a book that all may read.'< /p>
The words are in the book, let everyone read them.”
So he vanished from my sight;
He disappeared right before my eyes;
And I plucked a hollow reed.
I plucked a hollow reed.
And I made a rural pen,
I made a rustic pen,
And I stain'd the water clear,
I dipped in the clear water droplets again,
And I wrote my happy songs
And I wrote my happy songs,
Every child may joy to hear.
Let every child be happy when he hears it.