Following the Footsteps of Spring – Let's Recite Classic Literature Together: Lu Xun’s ‘Spring’
Be patient, be patient, the east wind is coming, and spring is near.
Everything seems to have just woken up, refreshed and open its eyes. The mountains are moistened, the water rises, and the sun's cheeks are flushed with color.
The little grasses peek out from the earth, tender and green. Everywhere in the garden and the fields, there is a vast expanse of lushness. Let's sit, let's lie down, roll two times, kick a few balls, race a few times, hide and seek a few times. The wind is light and quiet, the grass is soft and yielding.
Peach trees, apricot trees, pear trees, if not you, you don't let me, I don't let you, they've all blossomed, contributing their beauty. Red like fire, pink like a sunset, white like snow. The flowers carry a hint of sweetness; close your eyes, and it seems the trees are already full of peaches, apricots, and pears. Beneath the flowers, thousands upon thousands of bees buzz excitedly, and butterflies flutter here and there. Wildflowers are scattered everywhere: some named, some unnamed, nestled among the blossoms, like eyes and like stars, blinking playfully.
'The willow wind blows without a chill,' it's wonderful. Like a mother's hand caressing you. The wind carries the scent of freshly turned earth, mixed with the fragrance of green grass, and various flowers, all brewing in the slightly damp air. Birds have built their nests among the tender blossoms, becoming joyful and singing clear melodies, responding to the gentle breeze and flowing water. A shepherd boy's short flute rings out brightly, especially at this time.
Rain is commonplace, lasting three or two days. Don't be annoyed. Look, like a hemp stalk, like a flower needle, like a strand of silk, densely woven across rooftops, and a thin layer of smoke hangs over every house. But the leaves are a vibrant green, and the grass is a vivid green, almost blinding to the eye. In the evening, the lamp is lit, and a little yellow light spreads out, creating a quiet and peaceful night. In the countryside, on the small paths, by the stone bridges, there are people walking slowly under umbrellas; in the fields, farmers are working, wearing rain cloaks and hats. Their houses are sparsely scattered in the rain, silent and serene.
More and more kites are flying in the sky, and more and more children are on the ground. In the city and the countryside, households of all ages, old and young, all came out. Stretching and loosening muscles and bones, and invigorating the spirit, everyone is doing their own part, 'Spring is the key to a successful year.' Just starting out, there's plenty of time, and plenty of hope.
Spring is like a newborn baby, fresh from head to toe. It's growing.
Spring is like a young girl, with her branches waving, smiling, and walking.
Spring is like a robust young man, with strong arms and legs, leading us forward.
