我不再说话了,雨滴也不再说话了,我又轻悄悄地把雨滴托到花瓣上,心里默默祝愿它有一个好的旅程。我轻轻朝它挥了挥手,它也轻轻闪闪光芒。雨已经停了,我想雨滴们又在发挥它们的作用了,其实,雨滴如此,我们的家长、老师等等又何常不是像雨滴一样呢?静静地,默默地,他们奉献着,他们用自己的心温暖着我们一代又一代。远远地,我回望那些雨滴,它们闪着金光,格外明亮……
I don't speak anymore, and raindrops don't speak anymore. I gently hold raindrops on the petals and wish them a good journey in my heart. I waved gently at it, and it sparkled. The rain has stopped. I think raindrops are playing their role again. In fact, raindrops are like this. How often are our parents, teachers and so on not like raindrops? Quietly, silently, they are dedicating, they are warming our generation by generation with their own heart. Far away, I look back at those raindrops, they shine golden light, especially bright
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