英語春天作文

時(shí)間：2026-03-25 22:34:24 英語作文

英語春天作文通用4篇

　　在平平淡淡的學(xué)習(xí)、工作、生活中，大家對(duì)作文都不陌生吧，作文是人們以書面形式表情達(dá)意的言語活動(dòng)。你寫作文時(shí)總是無從下筆？下面是小編為大家整理的英語春天作文4篇，歡迎大家借鑒與參考，希望對(duì)大家有所幫助。

英語春天作文通用4篇

英語春天作文篇1

　　Spring returns to the good earth., bright red blossoms and green willows, bid farewell to the cold and cold winter, in the beautiful spring. Spring, willow pan out of the bud, the water in the river. Not gently rippling out ripples. Daming and his friends are playing under a big tree, the birds in the above them take one's ease to fly,without attending to the sun in the sky, white clouds gently floating in the breeze.

　　春回大地，花紅柳綠，告別寒冷而又冷漠的.冬天，迎來花枝招展的春天。春天，柳枝泛出了嫩芽，小河里的水不是輕輕蕩漾出陣陣漣漪。大明和他的朋友在一棵大樹下玩耍，小鳥在他們的上空自由自在地飛翔，太陽公公毫無倦態(tài)地掛在天空上，白云也輕輕隨著微風(fēng)飄動(dòng)。

英語春天作文篇2

　　A Promise of Spring

　　Early in the spring, about a month before my grandpa's stroke, I began walking for an hour every afternoon. Some days I would walk four blocks south to see Grandma and Grandpa. At eighty-six, Grandpa was still quite a gardener, so I always watched for his earliest blooms and each new wave of spring flowers.

　　I was especially interested in flowers that year because I was planning to landscape my own yard and I was eager to get Grandpa's advice. I thought I knew pretty much what I wanted — a yard full of bushes and plants that would bloom from May till November.

　　It was right after the first rush of purple violets in the lawns and the sudden blaze of forsythia that spring that Grandpa had a stroke. It left him without speech and with no movement on his left side. The whole family rallied to Grandpa. We all spent many hours by his side. Some days his eyes were eloquent — laughing at our reported mishaps, listening alertly, revealing painful awareness of his inability to care for himself. There were days, too, when he slept most of the time, overcome with the weight of his approaching death.

　　As the months passed, I watched the growing earth with Grandpa's eyes. Each time I was with him, I gave him a garden report. He listened, gripping my hand with the sure strength and calm he had always had. But he could not answer my questions. The new flowers would blaze, peak, fade, and die before I knew their names.

　　Grandpa's illness held him through the spring and on, week by week, through summer. I began spending hours at the local nursery, studying and choosing seeds and plants. It gave me special joy to buy plants I had seen in Grandpa's garden and give them humble starts in my own garden. I discovered Sweet William, which I had admired for years in Grandpa's garden without knowing its name. And I planted it in his honor.

　　As I waited and watched in the garden and by Grandpa's side, some quiet truths emerged. I realized that Grandpa loved flowers that were always bloom; he kept a full bed of roses in his garden. But I noticed that Grandpa left plenty of room for the brief highlights. Not every nook of his garden was constantly in bloom. There was always a treasured surprise tucked somewhere.

　　I came to see, too, that Grandpa's garden mirrored his life. He was a hard worker who understood the law of the harvest. But along with his hard work, Grandpa knew how to enjoy each season, each change. We often teased him about his life history. He had written two paragraphs summarizing fifty years of work, and a full nine pages about every trip and vacation he'd ever taken.

　　In July, Grandpa worsened. One hot afternoon arrived when no one else was at his bedside. He was glad to have me there, and reached out his hand to pull me close.

　　I told Grandpa what I had learned — that few flowers last from April to November. Some of the most beautiful bloom for only a month at most. To really enjoy a garden, you have to plant corners and drifts and rows of flowers that will bloom and grace the garden, each in its own season.

　　His eyes listened to every word. Then, another discovery: "If I want a garden like yours, Grandpa, I'm going to have to work." His grin laughed at me, and his eyes teased me.

　　"Grandpa, in your life right now the chrysanthemums are in bloom. Chrysanthemums and roses." Tears clouded both our eyes. Neither of us feared this last flower of fall, but the wait for spring seems longest in November. We knew how much we would miss each other.

　　Sitting there, I suddenly felt that the best gift I could give Grandpa would be to give voice to the testimony inside both of us. He had never spoken of his testimony to me, but it was such a part of his life that I had never questioned if Grandpa knew. I knew he knew.

　　"Grandpa," I began — and his grip tightened as if he knew what I was going to say — "I want you to know that I have a testimony. I know the Savior lives. I bear witness to you that Joseph Smith is a prophet. I love the Restoration and joy in it." The steadiness in Grandpa's eyes told how much he felt it too. "I bear witness that President Kimball is a prophet. I know the Book of Mormon is true, Grandpa. Every part of me bears this witness."

　　"Grandpa," I added quietly, "I know our Father in Heaven loves you." Unbidden, unexpected, the Spirit bore comforting, poignant testimony to me of our Father's love for my humble, quiet Grandpa.

　　A tangible sense of Heavenly Father's compassionate awareness of Grandpa's suffering surrounded us and held us. It was so personal and powerful that no words were left to me — only tears of gratitude and humility, tears of comfort.

　　Grandpa and I wept together.

　　It was the end of August when Grandpa died, the end of summer. As we were choosing flowers from the florist for Grandpa's funeral, I slipped away to Grandpa's garden and walked with my memories of columbine and Sweet William. Only the tall lavender and white phlox were in bloom now, and some baby's breath in another corner.

　　On impulse, I cut the prettiest strands of phlox and baby's breath and made one more arrangement for the funeral. When they saw it, friends and family all smiled to see Grandpa's flowers there. We all felt how much Grandpa would have liked that.

　　The October after Grandpa's death, I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs, snowdrops, crocuses, and bluebells. Each bulb was a comfort to me, a love sent to Grandpa, a promise of spring.

英語春天作文篇3

　　窗外的樹又綠了，春天來了，我不禁想起我的家鄉(xiāng)——廣東。

　　The trees outside the window are green again. When spring comes, I can't help thinking of my hometown Guangdong.

　　南方的春天很美麗。在每年春節(jié)左右，這里就會(huì)下起蒙蒙細(xì)雨。近看，像小小的銀針，又像一根根牛毛。遠(yuǎn)看，似一層蒙蒙的薄霧，又如淡淡的白煙……煙霧中透過陽光，形成漂亮的“太陽雨”。

　　Spring in the south is very beautiful. Around the Spring Festival every year, there will be drizzle. Close look, like a small silver needle, like a root of cattle hair. From a distance, it looks like a layer of misty mist and a light white smoke Smoke through the sun, forming a beautiful "sun rain.".

　　春風(fēng)吹佛著，小草的嫩芽，一個(gè)個(gè)從地下冒了出來，織成一片片綠色的.草毯�！疤栍辍币廊辉谙�，下了好幾天，還是那樣細(xì)細(xì)的、密密的，不停地往下飄，好像永遠(yuǎn)也灑不完。嫩草上的雨珠，像一顆顆漂亮的珍珠，在陽光下閃閃發(fā)亮。許多頑皮的小孩光著腳在水里撲打著，水花四濺，衣服都濕了，他們依然在水里打鬧著、玩耍著……

　　The spring wind blows the Buddha, and the buds of the grass come out from the ground one by one, weaving into a piece of green grass blanket. "The sun rain" is still under, under several days, or so thin, dense, constantly floating down, as if it will never end. The rain drops on the tender grass, like beautiful pearls, shine in the sun. Many naughty children are flapping in the water barefoot, splashing all over the water, their clothes are wet, they are still playing in the water

　　美麗的南方還有許多知名的、不知名的花兒，在戶內(nèi)戶外爭(zhēng)奇斗艷的開放著。難怪有人把祖國(guó)的南方稱做“花之鄉(xiāng)”，把南方門戶——廣州稱為“花城”。

　　There are many well-known and unknown flowers in the beautiful south, which are blooming indoors and outdoors. It is no wonder that some people call the south of the motherland "the land of flowers", and Guangzhou, the gateway of the south, as "the flower city".

　　南方——一個(gè)生機(jī)勃勃的大花園，我喜歡南方的春天。

　　South - a big garden full of life. I like the spring in the south.

英語春天作文篇4

　　Scorching summer, autumn fruits, cold winter. Every season has its own unique beauty, but what I like most is spring.

　　Spring is a revival and vibrant season for all things. When you walk into the park, you smell a delicate fragrance of flowers. Into a look, I was shocked, as if into a picture, there are flowers riotous with colour brilliant purples and reds. Spilt spill spring is in full blossom, red flowers and elegant white flowers Gao Jie, warm and deep purple flowers. Green head, grass stuck around; peach pink face is exposed, and people say hello; the river thawed, the river ice collide, issued “ Ding Ding ” sounds like a wonderful music. The water of the river is clean and clear, like a blue scarf, and the water and grass at the bottom of the river are green and green. Sometimes a few small fish play in the water. Play the game of hide and seek, hide behind the water and grass. After a while, Miss butterfly wearing a beautiful dress in the flowers dancing, sometimes stopped to drink a few cups of honey. Soon, Mr. bee also came to dance with Miss butterfly, dancing the graceful waltz.

　　“ where is spring, where is spring? Spring is in our eyes … … ” I can't help humming children's nursery rhymes. Yes! Where spring comes, there is a vibrant scene. In the pleasant spring season, the mountains towering trees, willow riparian tucui, countryside qunfangtu Yan, the resurrection scene intoxicated.

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