The poetry of dawn
[] plus one west law, Colette Cheng Yirong
except a small place, in addition to the Ginkgo (I often put it skate shaped leaves to the students, they have caught in the atlas), the entire garden hot, bathed in a red, purple yellow shining sunshine.But I don't know this red impression is of my feelings of satisfaction, or because my eyesight's sake.Golden sand reflection of the summer, my big straw hat in summer, almost no night in summer......My mother on my to the dawn of affection, allow me to meet it.She according to my request, the clock to wake me up at three thirty;I have each holding a basket, walked toward the river long moor, to pick strawberry, black mountain and full beard gooseberries.
now everything is still in chaos, moist, indistinct blue sleeping, I trod the path by the gravel, the weight of its own way or the first invasion of my legs, then my lips, my ears and systemic most sensitive nostrils......In this way, at the same time, I realized that the value of their own, realize a kind of ineffable happiness, realized I and the early morning breeze, the first bird, and oval just appears the tacit understanding between the.
My mother called me a "beauty, the baby", then let me go; she looked at her work -- she took me as her "masterpiece" -- on the hillside away and disappear.I might be pretty; my mother's evaluation and my pictures were not always consistent......I then appears beautiful, it is because I am young, because the dawn, because my green eyes, I in the morning breeze flowing blonde hair and my being awakened children compared with the other is in the sleeping child superiority.
I hear pounding head times mass clock will go back.But before I've had fruit,Has been like a hunting hound alone in the woods full circle, also had a taste of my reverence for the two springs.A cool spring clank Congcong, suddenly out of the ground, and all around form a small shoal.This spring the newborn will lose courage, to burrow into the ground.Another spring almost to conceal traces, like a snake in the grass skimmed over the lawn, the central secret detour.But a blossom Narcissus confirmed its existence.The first spring with oak leaves smell, another strand of iron and hyacinth stems.Mention of these springs, I hope my all down the mouth when can fill their fragrance,And with this thought Qinglie springs......
[author brief introduction]
a West, Colette (1873 - 1954), French writer.Major works include the "dialogue" and other animal.
2011-08-02 selected from the group consisting of "foreign famous natural essay of 66".
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