The winter seemed very cold in my childhood. The children were wrapped in heavy hand-sewn cotton-padded jackets and brought cotton caps and gloves knitted by my mother. The cracked red face, frozen like a melted ear, slamming thick snow, is about the permanent winter memories of the southern town of the 1990s.
The creaking old wooden doors were opened in the morning, and the nose was hit by the unprotected cold air, sour enough to shed tears. In front of the house, a pine tree that is more than two hundred years old is caged in the yard. The pine needles were trembling in the wind, and as the wind suddenly began to snow.
The mountains were always silent. Under the snow, people could hear the sound of the snow flakes blowing along with their ears. They could hear the foot slamming on the half-thick snow and dead leaves. There is also a kind of bird that makes a shout of sorrow from the layered valley. The voice was sharp and sad, as if it really took the gloomy snow day. Afterwards, Liu Zongyuan wrote: Thousands of birds flew away, and the people of the dead disappeared. It can be seen that the birds have been flying south during the winter season. But there is indeed such a kind of bird in the memory calling out, in the desolate world, issued a long breathtaking tone.
You just walked through the narrow lanes of the country when you were just snowing. You couldn’t see if there was an end to the road when you walked. You could hear the ice hanging under the eaves and crush on the blue The sound on the slate, as well as the friction of cotton boots on the snow.
When the snow falls, the free cat is lying in a chair and squinting at the beating hearth. The little black pig and the pig mother are curled up in the thickest corner of the pigsty's wheat straw. Dried fruits hanging on the roof, complained by which little animal secretly took away a few pieces of sweet potato dry......
In the woods behind the house, there is a sound of falling snow. It is like the sound of small animals reciprocating and exchanging information. The sister said that it was a small goblin in the forest. They were collecting the seeds of the plants and waiting for the snow to stop. They took the seeds to every corner of the mountains and lakes. The wind blew the warm breath and the grass quietly knotted its seeds. The snow melts and the earth rejuvenates...
The above text was taken from the work of the famous French paper master Philippe Yush’s “Snow Elfâ€. This book is a three-dimensional book that tells the story of the mountain when it is snowing and uses a more stereoscopic and intuitive picture to bring the snow scene. To the child's eyes, this poem written for the child comes to us in a very different form. Parents may wish to take this book with their children and appreciate the beauty of this French romantic forest.
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