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那条幼时的路,花香飘溢,沁人心脾。走在记忆的路上,看路边花儿盛开。独自一人回家,路似乎变得格外漫长:黄昏的小路,总是被夕阳染成金黄色,行色匆匆的路人投过来陌生的眼神,一架飞机凌空飞过,仿佛将无边的天空划出了一道长长的口子……远处不时传来一阵阵清脆的笑声,抬头望去,哦,是两个满脸通红的孩子在互相追逐玩耍着。那潮水般的记忆,涌满了面前的整条路,是啊,那不就像是以前的我吗?眼前的
That young road, elegant flowers, refreshing. Walk in the memory of the road, watching the roadside flowers in full bloom. The road alone seems to be particularly long: the twilight path, always dyed golden yellow sunset, hurried passers-by cast a strange look, a plane flying volley, as if to draw the boundless sky A long hole in the distance ... From time to time came a burst of crisp laughter from afar, looked up, oh, two flushed children play chasing each other. That tide-like memory, full of the whole road in front of it, yes ah, that is not like the previous me?