Before the balcony, had flown a beautiful butterfly, it together in the lay off in sky elegant arc. Below sunshine, the wing that it waves appears bright person. Flashy, the heart has the feeling of a kind of shock it seems that.
阳台前，飞过一只美丽的蝴蝶，它在空中划出一道道优雅的弧线。阳光下，它舞动的翅膀显得灼人。一瞬间，心灵似乎有一种震撼的感觉。
Initiative memory
初始的回忆
Still remember, once butterfly flies to the front of my home balcony, I wear to grandma shout: “ catchs butterfly! ” grandma can'ts help on that amiable face much 3 linear. I attack showing an eye to ask why the grandma gets angry, the thrill through in her eye a sadness. The rim of the eye that sees her becomes wet, I touch her face gently, comfort her not sad. Look at my expression, grandma instantly smile through tears. Grandma of total in those days feeling compares me even dot is angry. But when chatting with mom I changed a view thoroughly. The grandfather dies early, it is a grandma a person 4 children drag big. The grandma thinks butterfly flies to our home, be the grandfather comes back to visit us. Original grandma is to think a grandfather. I do not know that calculates do not calculate going up is superstitious, but I know the grandma misses a grandfather very much all the time.
还记得，有一次蝴蝶飞到我家阳台前，我向奶奶嚷嚷着：“抓蝴蝶！”奶奶那慈祥的脸上不禁多了三条直线。我扑闪着眼睛问奶奶为什么生气，她的眼中闪过一丝悲伤。看到她的眼眶变得湿润，我轻轻摸了摸她的脸庞，安慰她不要伤心。看着我的表情，奶奶立即破涕为笑了。那时总感觉奶奶比我还要小孩子气。但在一次与妈妈聊天时我彻底改变了看法。爷爷去世得早，是奶奶一个人把四个儿女拉扯大的。奶奶认为蝴蝶飞到我们家，便是爷爷回来看望我们了。原来奶奶是想爷爷了。我不知道那算不算得上是迷信，但我知道奶奶一直很想念爷爷。
Those who lose is good
遗失的美好
Searching those dated literatures, the past one act act emerges in brain composition. The look stays on the book that has dropped a line originally, the grandma sends me still remember this. The ancient poetry that this is edition of a drawing 300. The past resembles photographing collection machine to be shown commonly it is before. The bright moon before “ bed is smooth, doubt is the frost on the ground … this …… this ……” I hesitated a little while, the grandma sees I look flustered, chant path “ lifts a head to look at bright moon ” . Does “ lift a head to look at the bright moon? ” I say with puerile sound “ is right! It is to lift a head to look at the bright moon, lower his head to think of birthplace ” to be worn with respect to such chant chant is worn, my back was met this Tang poetry. In my childhood times, it is the grandma says a poem, I am read accordingly again, again come again, picture answer read opportunity is same, till till me the back is met.
翻着那些陈旧的书籍，往事一幕幕在脑海中浮现作文。目光停留在一本已经掉线的书上，还记得这是奶奶送我的。这是一本图画版的古诗三百首。往事就像摄录机一般显现在眼前。“床前明月光，疑是地上霜…这个……这个……”我踌躇了一会儿，奶奶见我神色慌张，便吟道“举头望明月”。“举头望明月？”我用稚嫩的声音说“对！是举头望明月，低头思故乡”就这样吟着吟着，我背会了这首唐诗。在我的幼年时代，是奶奶说一句诗，我再跟着读一遍、再重复一遍，像复读机一样，直到我背会为止。
Forever yearning
永远的怀念
Early morning, mirage diffuses, two butterfly fly in front of. The mood can'ts help heavy rise with pain. Looking at that old tree before the door, before you can say Jack Robinson, already was deciduous leaf full ground, it or tenacious ground stand still over, do not have dumbly language, in long years, much is the trace with mottled little not only.
清晨，雾气弥漫，两只蝴蝶飞到跟前。心情不禁沉重和伤痛起来。望着家门前的那棵老树，转眼间，已是落叶满地，它还是顽强地伫立在那里，无言无语，在漫长的岁月里，多的不仅是一点点斑驳的痕迹。
One nobody receive audition telephone call, dialing the heartstrings that moving me. Once I also do not understand, a small butterfly can shake interior ……
一通无人接听的电话，在拨动着我的心弦。曾经的我也不懂，一只小小的蝴蝶可以震撼心灵……(文/陈浩然)