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我的外婆,像一棵树,披着沉淀在岁月里的安详;像一束光,抚平了轻柔温暖的旧时光。我在这里轻轻怀念,难忘那慈爱的眼神。春日里,一路烟霞,莺飞草长。我走在外婆家门前那条湿润的小路上。外婆的家还没通车,这里的时间过得缓慢,外婆坐在藤椅上挥着自扎的竹扇,槐树下的老人仿佛从未改变过。外婆见到我会笑,笑得皱纹遮了眼,轻柔的光落在我身上,慈爱得如一汪甘澈的泉,一缕和煦的风。香椿尖,豌豆
My grandmother, like a tree, is lined with serenity in the years; like a beam of light, heals the gentle, warm, old days. I miss here gently, memorable loving eyes. Spring day, all the way haze, Orioles fly long grass. I walk in the wet path in front of grandma’s door. Grandmother’s home is still not open to traffic, where the time flies slowly, grandmother sitting on the wicker chair waving self-Zha bamboo fans, Ash tree seems to have never changed. Grandmother will see I will laugh, smile wrinkles covered his eyes, gentle light falls on me, lovingly like Wang Wang Chun’s spring, a ray of genial wind. Toon sharp, peas