时间:2015-12-08    阅读:84 次   

  【篇一:花落了无痕Fallen Flowers Without Trace】
  To me, it was supposed a fine day. The sunshine in May warmly embraced the earth in her arms. It was already the time when the Spring was approaching to its end and flowers were fading away;nevertheless, in the courtyard, a tung tree was still in full blossom. The light pink flowers hung on all the branches like the windbells in a dreamland, with a silky faint fragrance filled in the air all over the yard. Out with a small chair, I seated myself leisurely under the tung flowers.
         A small breeze stole in, slightly and gently at first, with the light pink flowers flying and falling softly in the light blue sky, like the elegant melodious sound of Guzheng(a kind of Chinesetraditional musical instrument), and the fragrant poetic lines, and the colurful butterflies flying and dancing. I was fascinated in the scene of the dance of the falling flowers. Only after a while, however, the wind was growing stronger, scraping and swinging the beautiful dresses of tung flowers to and fro in the air, and stirring up the fallen flowers and dust spreading all over the street. Soon came down the raindrops, as big as beans, dropping onto my skin, cool and painful. I hurried back to my room and wached on the balcony. The branches were rustling in the wind and rain, and the flowers on the tree were swaying and falling in succession, which occurred to me theverse that "The wind blows the autumn leaves falling onto the ground, which again are blown up by the wind."But at the time, I was not brought to the beautiful artistic conception but quite apity"to appriciate the Spring till ending, only leaving a wet garment with tears."These beautiful flowers, once gentle and lovely and voluptuous, having attracted bees and butterflies in acontinuous stream, could not withstand the attack of wind and rain, falling down and scattering on the earth, and turned into spring mud with much desolation from the disappearance offlourish and the dreams fading away.
         A long time passed before the rain stopped. I walked out of my room, back to the yard, seeing fallen flowers in pieces scatter here and there. I stepped over the broken flowers lightly, when I couldn’t help thinking of the sentimental mood of a poet in Song Dynasty , standing behind thecurtain and chanting the verse:"A half mu (unit of land measure in China) of tung flowers melta yard of the worrying rain quietly."And a mass of melancholy fancy thronged my mind as well. After the baptism of wind and rain, the sky appeared cleaner. The few tenacious flowers left on the tung trees appeared brighter and more gorgeous. And the newly growing leaves now also looked even tender and greener. As the warm sunshine cast onto the earth again, I got feeling bright too.
         life cycle, to fade away and turn into spring mud silently when conceiving fruits, and to foster new lives with the maternal gentleness. That is why flowers will whirl down so indifferently and elegantly, and smile so peacefully and tranquilly after the wind and rain.

  There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real!
         When the door of happiness closes, another opens, but often times we look so long at the closed door that we don’t see the one which has been opened for us.
        Don’t go for looks; they can deceive. Don’t go for wealth; even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright. Find the one that makes your heart smile.
        Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.
         May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to make you happy.
        The happiest of people don’t necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.
        Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear.
        The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past, you can’t go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.
        When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so that when you die, you’re the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.

  【篇三:The Light of a Bright Day By Helen Keller更光明的未来】
         I choose for my subject faith wrought into life, apart from creed or dogma. By faith I mean a vision of good one cherishes and the enthusiasm that pushes one to seek its fulfillment regardless of obstacles. Faith is a dynamic power that breaks the chain of routine and gives a new, fine turn to old commonplaces. Faith reinvigorates the will, enriches the affections and awakens a sense of creativeness.
        Active faith knows no fear, and it is a safeguard to me against cynicism and despair. After all, faith is not one thing or two or three things; it is an indivisible totality of beliefs that inspire me. Belief in God as infinite good will and all-seeing Wisdom whose everlasting arms sustain me walking on the sea of life. Trust in my fellow men, wonder at their fundamental goodness and confidence that after this night of sorrow and oppression they will rise up strong and beautiful in the glory of morning. Reverence for the beauty an preciousness of the earth, and a sense of responsibility to do what I can to make it a habitation of health and plenty for all men. Faith in immortality because it renders less bitter the separation from those I have loved and lost, and because it will free me from unnatural limitations and unfold still more faculties I have in joyous activity. Even if my vital spark should be blown out, I believe that I should behave with courageous dignity in the presence of fate and strive to be a worthy companion of the beautiful, the good, and the True. But fate has its master in the faith of those who surmount it, and limitation has its limits for those who, thought disillusioned, live greatly. True faith is not a fruit of security, it is the ability to blend mortal fragility with the inner strength of the spirit. It does not shift with the changing shades of one’s thought.
        It was a terrible blow to my faith when I learned that millions of my fellow creatures must labor all their days for food and shelter, bear the most crushing burdens and die without having known the joy of living. My security vanished forever, and I have never regained the radiant belief of my young years that earth is a happy home and hearth for the majority of mankind. But faith is a state of mind. The believer is not soon disheartened. If he is turned out of his shelter, he builds up a house that the winds of the earth cannot destroy.
        When I think of the suffering and famine, and the continued slaughter of men, my spirit bleeds, but the thought comes to me that, like the little deaf, dumb and blind child I once was, mankind is growing out of the darkness of ignorance and hate into the light of a brighter day.


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