清明刚过,湖边。人们走累了,纷纷到垂柳的阴影里小憩。说是阴影不太准确。四月,柳树刚刚抽出不大的芽儿,枝条下垂,湖风徐来,筛下阳光,让人浑身舒服。尤其在走了一段路,累了之后,躺在树下的草地上,吹吹小风,听听鸟叫,晒晒不甚厉害的阳光。远处,有一群大学生,三五成群地坐在树下,铺一块布打牌、聊天,好不惬意。“多美啊。”一个路过的女子对着身边的男子感叹道,“树种里面还是柳树最漂亮,你看她的枝条,多像我年轻时的头发。” Ching Ming just, the lake. People are tired, have to rest in the shadow of weeping willow. That the shadow is not accurate. In April, the willow had just taken out small buds, branches drooped, the lake blowing, the sun under the sieve, making people feel comfortable. Especially after a long walk, tired, lying on the grass under the tree, blowing a small wind, listen to birds, the sun is not very powerful sunshine. In the distance, a group of college students, sitting in groups of trees in small groups, shop a piece of cloth playing cards and chatting, so enjoyable. “A beautiful woman.” A passing woman exclaimed at the man around him. “The willows are the most beautiful among the species. Look at her branches, much like my hair when I was young.” "