head,

picking her way over the shiny stones. But the wind pulled

the leaves

in the basket this way and that, and displayed them to beautiful

advantage.

The sun patted them condescendingly on their flat surfaces, and

they seemed

sprinkled with silver. The little boy sighed as he looked

at his disordered

toys on the floor. They were motionless, and their colours

were dull.

The dark wainscoting absorbed the sun. There was none

left for toys.

The square was quite empty now. Only the wind ran round

and round it,

spinning. Away over in the corner where a street opened

into the square,

the wind had stopped. Stopped running, that is, for it

never

stopped spinning. It whirred, and whirled, and gyrated,

and turned.

It burned like a great coloured sun. It hummed, and buzzed,

and sparked,

and darted. There were flashes of blue, and long smearing

lines of saffron,

and quick jabs of green. And over it all was a sheen

like a myriad

cut diamonds. Round and round it went, the huge wind-wheel,

【AmyLowell:ThePaperWindmill】相关文章：

★ AmyLowell:SeaShell

★ 双语诗歌：TheChallenge挑战

★ 小升初英语双语阅读：我让奶奶高兴了

★ LegendofSpringFestival(春节传奇)

★ 英语阅读大练兵：Fighting against Chinglish

★ 感情创伤的恢复期有多长？

★ 小升初英语双语阅读：工地闹翻天

★ AmyLowell:TheCross

★ 后悔太晚才看到:改变人生的10句话

★ 关于wind song的小学民间故事阅读