冬日的呼唤声作文？英文双语对照

江南的冬天，时有小雪，那纯白的雪花很少有杂音，似乎把一切都笼罩在一片寂静之中。我不止一次天真地认为，那一阵阵雪花是天神撒下的网，把讨厌的声音都压到地底下去了。真的一点声音都没有了吗？不是的。在我童年的记忆深处，永远珍藏着一段关于雪的声音——属于江南冬天的声音。

　　那是在一个寂静的雪夜里，我拿着手电筒，蹲在门外屋檐下，看着千万片雪花穿过金黄色的光柱，乘着风不停地打旋儿，落到地上，仿佛悄无声息的，却又透出不容易捕捉到的“沙沙”声，若即若离，忽近忽远，开玩笑似地考验着我的听觉。这声音像什么呢？就像树叶轻轻地在风中摇曳时的回声，像蝴蝶的翅膀在扇动，像我正在翻图画书，像姐姐在梳头……那一刻我幼小的心里把能想得到的一切事物都拿去形容这个声音。我被天使般的低语深深地迷住了。我关掉了手电筒，此时用不着一丝光来干扰我“听”的意境。

　　雪下得更大了，被雪压弯的树枝发出沉重的叹息声，抖落掉一些雪花后又欢快地弹起，舒展筋骨。雪停了，雪地反射着淡淡的月光，纯净圣洁的银白色温柔着我的瞳仁。那时的我，绝想不到“囊萤积雪”这个成语，也不至于好学到借着雪光读书。我蹬着棉布鞋，小心翼翼地走到雪中，鞋和雪快乐地打着招呼，“嘎吱嘎吱”，我开心地笑了，这声音像手中捏着妈妈缝的沙袋一样。我蹦跳起来，让这声音变得有节奏，尽情用耳朵接收我自创的音乐。“啊！”静夜里不和谐的声音把我从雪的梦中惊醒，妈妈忙不迭地把我从院子里拉回来，替还没玩够的我换下湿了的棉鞋，不停地责备道：“会着凉的……会滑倒的……”那个夜晚的一切，都已深深印在我的脑海里，包括后来我裹着被子坐在床上的狼狈样子。

　　那个冬天过后，我离开江南老家，随父母到了厦门，厦门是个温暖的城市，没有雪，没有我记忆里雪夜的声音。我心中一开始有些落寞，那种情感也许就是人们说的“思乡情”。我思念家乡，思念那一次雪夜里，和雪声最为亲密的碰触。

　　去年冬天，我幸运地在家乡重遇一场大雪，我期待，期待那场被我重温过无数遍的声音。但是，我站在雪地里等了许久，都只能看到雪花一片片落下，听不见它们的声音，我不得不在无尽失望中放弃了等待。有一句话是这么说的：只有在你的心静下来时，才能听见自然的声音。也许，我在成长的蜕变中，已经无法再让心恬静了。

The winter of Changjiang Delta, from time to tome light snow, na Chunbai's snowflake has murmur rarely, envelop everything in a hush it seems that. I am more than think innocently, flower of that one snow shower is deity cast the net below, overwhelm disgusting sound went below the ground. Was true a bit sound done not have? Either. In the depth of the memory of my childhood, forever collect carefully is worn a paragraph of sound about snow -- the sound that belongs to Changjiang Delta winter.

That is to be in a silent snow night, I am taking electric torch, crouch below door outbuilding brim, look at ten million piece the smooth column that snowflake crosses golden color, multiplying wind to keep hitting come back, fall to the ground, as if of quiet silence, go out to be caught not easily fully again however " rustle " sound, keep sb at an arm's length, ignore close ignore far, the joking test that be like the ground is worn my hearing. What does this sound resemble? With respect to the echo when resembling a leaf swaying gently in wind, the wing that resembles butterfly is in fan, turning over drawing book like me, be in like the elder sister do up one's hair... that momently in my little heart all can conceivable things go off with describes this sound. I was enchanted deeply by the murmur like angel. I put out flashlight, right now one the silky luster of mercerized cotton fabrics comes to not need disturb me " listen " artistic conception.

Snow falls more greatly, the branch that is pressed to bend by snow gives out serious groan tone, after shaking off a few snowflake, bounce livelily again, extend bones and muscles. Snow stopped, snow ground is reflexing light moon, pure and holy silvery white is tender my pupil. I in those days, want to be less than absolutely " bursa firebug firn " this is phrasal, unapt also academic to borrowing Xue Guang to read. I am toing step on cotton cloth shoe, go cautiously in snow, shoe and snow are making call happily, "Creak creaks " , I laughed happily, this sound resembles like there is the sandbag that mom seams in the hand. I skip rise, let this sound become have rhythm, receive the music that I achieve oneself with ear to the top of one's bent. "Ah! " the disharmonious sound in static night sleeps lightly me from inside the dream of snow, ground of mom busy incessantly pulls me from the courtyard, for had not played me enough to change next soppy cotton-padded shoes, keep blaming: "Of meeting catch a cold... can slip... " everything of that night, imprint deeply already in my brain, include the helter-skelter model that I am wrapping a quilt to sit on the bed later.

After passing that winter, I leave Changjiang Delta old home, arrived along with parents Xiamen, xiamen is a warm city, without snow, remember Li Xueye's voice without me. There is some of desolate at the beginning in my heart, the sort of affection perhaps is people those who say " the affection that consider country " . I miss hometown, long for that time in snow night, he Xuesheng is most close touch touch.

Last year in the winter, I encounter a heavy snow fortunately again in home town, I expect, expect that sound that has been reviewed countless times by me. But, I stood in snow ground to wait for for a long time, can see snowflake falls pieces only, inaudible their sound, I must abandon awaiting in endless disappointment. Having a word is so say: When only the calm in you comes down, ability hears natural voice. Perhaps, I am in the decay that grow, can no more have allowed heart quiet.