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明天,私塾先生要检查这一段时间我们的学习情况,我的心里不免有点忐忑。冷风从窗户里溜进来,吹斜了烛光。一滴滴蜡泪顺着烛台流了下来,在桌上慢慢堆起一座红色的小山丘。我放下书,开门走了出去。屋外的一切都被夜色浸染。墨色在近处高矮不一的树木与远处连绵起伏的山峦之间流动,越来越急,越来越急,渐渐流入了广阔的天际。我背手站立,望向我和同窗居住的厢房,那里依然灯火通明。挑
Tomorrow, private school teacher to check our study of this period of time, my heart can not help but a little sad. The cold wind slipped in from the window and shone a candlelight. A drop of tears flowed down the candlestick, slowly piled up on the table a small red hill. I put down the book, opened the door and went out. Everything outside the house was dyed by night. Ink in the vicinity of the height of the trees and rolling mountains in the distance between the flow, more and more urgent, more and more urgent, and gradually into the vast sky. I stand back with my back and look to the room in which I live with my classmates, where the lights are still bright. pick