Wintry this world rises once more, pear flower still twines deadwood, azalea goes to Shan Anfei, when the firn apparently severed of the leaf with yellow extensive and gray, foreword spring chant has old life movement, of life set out, turn round from time begin.
冬阳再度升起，梨花仍缠绕枯枝，杜鹃向山岸飞去，当泛黄的花瓣与灰色的积雪藕断丝连，序春吟咏起古老的生命乐章，生命的启程，从光阴扭转间开始。
Beam of light is hit on the cacti of windowsill, the needle is stricken grow come up out of land gules flower, do not tell how many early morning, it is growing in that way, carefree; I carefree also. Hold in mouth or eyes is worn the joyous Yue in the stamen all without exception of dew is adumbrative life, no matter drizzle is drizzly, also be intense this world is hanged high, cactus is growing only, grow; I also grow, grow.
光束打在窗台的仙人掌上，尖刺中生长出土红色的花儿，不知多少个清晨，它就那样生长着，无忧无虑；我便也无忧无虑着。噙着露珠的花蕊无不预示着生命中的欢悦，无论细雨蒙蒙，亦是烈阳高挂，仙人掌只在生长，生长；我便也生长，生长。
The dusk after 4 years spring, there is a bright-coloured cuckoo on windowsill, it is fine the mix into in pecking tub is worn the silt of stone; Here already contained the body with no less than increasingly enormous cacti, it went in the garden, go developing more fields.
四年后的暮春，窗台上停着一只鲜艳的布谷鸟，它细啄木盆中掺着石头的泥沙；这里已容不下仙人掌日益庞大的身躯，它去了花园中，去开拓更多的领域。
I see it again, it is dusk time, there is purple cloud drift in the sky, diffuse all around case sweet butyric breath; But it is not there, composition / there ought be it after golden copper color protects column, but it is absent.
我又去看它，是傍晚时分，天空中交织着紫色的浮云，四周弥漫起甜奶油的气息；可它不在那儿，作文/金铜色护栏后本该有它，可它不在。
Sleep lightly in the middle of the night, speech still is by the side of ear deal with; Is cactus dead? I accept a fact hard. The cacti that that does not know when to become yellow is become a few paragraphs by behead, lie in the Zhu Lin of roadside accumulation withered leaf. I think cry bitterly of face of attack by surprise, think of that “ did not grow family good to die ” , I do not say to give a word to come however, is this me that forever vibrant cacti? In brain, still remaining it seems that green memory, how also daub does not go.
半夜惊醒，话语还在耳边周旋；仙人掌死了？我难以接受事实。那不知何时变黄的仙人掌被斩成几段，躺在路边堆积枯树叶的竹林里。我想掩面痛哭，想到家人那句“没长好就死了”，我却说不出话来，这是我那棵永远生机勃勃的仙人掌么？脑海中，似乎还残留着绿色的回忆，如何也涂抹不去。
Also can be in that momently, my seem is grown, the life movement in the heart stops abruptly: Nothing is OK immortal, I tell myself, even if be cactus. Ceng Mo has cried several times before it, had laughed; Nowadays, coagulate like that double eye is crossed from windowsill, roam in the garden, seem roams in darkness.
可也就在那一刻，我好似长大，心中的生命乐章戛然而止：没有东西可以永垂不朽，我告诉自己，哪怕是仙人掌。曾无数次在它面前哭过，笑过；如今，凝然的双眼从窗台越过，徜徉在花园中，好似徜徉在黑暗里。
Cuckoo, be called Chun Diao again; It utters sad calls all night, be multitude to drive the darkness of a kind of green tea picked before Pure Brightness; And I, we, also can see the dawn after darkness not just.
杜鹃鸟，又名叫春鸟；它彻夜悲鸣，是为驱赶黎明前的黑暗；而我，我们，也不仅仅会看到黑暗后的曙光。