飘悠悠,飘悠悠,粉笔的光芒在四洒着,教室里便有了书香的味道,粉笔一丁点儿地耗尽了,留下了让人深思的几何人生,留下了千古旷世神韵的诗篇……
Piaoyou, Piaoyou, the light of chalk is sprinkled all around, and the classroom will have the taste of calligraphy. The chalk is used up little by little, leaving a pondering geometric life, leaving a poem of eternal charm
老师的人生,有桃李的芬芳,有浓浓的深情,就让我为可爱可敬的老师,和零星的粉笔颂上一首诗吧:驿外断桥边,寂寞开无主,已是黄昏独自愁,更着风和雨,无意苦争春,一任群芳妒,零落成泥碾作主,只有香如故。
Teacher's life, with the fragrance of peaches and plums, and deep feelings, let me sing a poem for the lovely and respectable teacher and the sporadic chalk: the bridge outside the post house is broken, lonely and has no owner. It's Dusk alone. It's more windy and rainy. I don't want to fight for spring. Any group of Fang is jealous, falling into the mud and grinding the master. Only the fragrance is like the past.
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