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星期天,我们全家去郊外露宿,那是一片绿色的草地,草地上还有羊。爸爸支起了一顶帐篷,妈妈开始在草地上铺桌布。我呢,就在草地上踢足球。我对准球猛地一脚,球飞了出去。我欣赏着球飞行的弧度,突然听见脚下有细小的声音传上来:“哎哟,这孩子真是太狠了,脚不大,劲儿倒挺大。”这是谁在说话?声音这样陌生。我的周围没有一个人,爸爸和妈妈在草地的另外一头。“不会是蚱蜢吧?”我说。“不是的。是我,我是一棵草。”那个陌生的声音说。“草?哦,你是会说话的草?”我奇怪地问。
On Sunday, our whole family went to sleep in the suburbs, a green meadow with sheep on the grass. Dad supported a tent and her mother began to spread the tablecloth on the grass. I, playing football on the grass. I aim at the ball suddenly, the ball flew out. I appreciate the curvature of the flight of the ball, I suddenly heard a small voice came down at the foot: “Oh, this child is really ruthless, feet are not big, awkward big. ” This is who is talking? Sound strange . There is no one around me, dad and mom are on the other side of the grass. “It will not be a grasshopper, right? ” I said. “No, it’s me, I’m a grass,” said the strange voice. “Grass? Oh, are you talking grass?” I asked strangely.