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 Allgemeine Fragen rund um das Scheidungsverfahren
ylq Offline

Beiträge: 2

23.05.2019 03:45
Knowing me is my antworten

Knowing me is my heart, I don��t know what I mean by me. ����The title is a few early fights for the warm tree, who is the new Yan Yan Chun Mu. "This is the poem in the "Qiantang Lake Spring Festival" by Bai Juyi of the Tang Dynasty. "Qiantang Lake" is the current West Lake in Hangzhou. The poem describes the beautiful picture of Jiangnan Spring. The "ݺ" here should be Huang Wei, also called " Huang Wei." In my hometown, people usually call it "The Yellow Heron." This kind of bird I saw in my early years, but usually in the summer. At that time, it was already tree-lined, and it no longer needs to fight. What "warm tree" just happened to be the big poet Wang Wei's phrase "Yin Yin Xia Mu, Huang Qi Huang Qi's tweet, crisp and twirling, melodious and pleasant. I remember that in the past, both the village and the village, I and my friends were screaming and learning Parliament Cigarettes. Don't say, the imitation of the "paste of oil" is now a bit like it. Huang Hao is not only beautiful, but also beautiful. Its flying and jumping are very fast, the tree is under the tree, passing by, just like a yellow lightning. But then again, although I have seen jaundice many times, I really don��t know the nest of jaundice. Look at it and jump back and forth on the tree, thinking that its "home" is probably in the tree as far as the swallow, which is familiar to me in my early years. Yan language whispers, hey, we usually call it "Little Swallow". Every year the flowers have not been exhausted, and it flies early. In my memory, when the little swallows come, they usually fly around the pond in the east of the village. "The rainy fish is out, the breeze swallows obliquely." Tired, they are on the side of the wire, squatting side by side, long two squats, but really can not distinguish "winter spring" is "who New Yan." In that great spring, the "mud swallows swallows", the small swallows of every household are busy, and they are happily running their own pair of little swallows who are happy with my family. They built the love nest in the old house. On the spine between the ridges. It can be seen that they are a loving couple, and they come and go in, and the husband and wife sing along, and they are inseparable. Each swallow is a uniform night outfit, a small shackle, a scissors-like tail, a pair of small claws, very delicate. I often lament that the elves created by nature are impeccable, and they are simply gods. I have especially liked the Little Swallow since I was a child. I want to talk about the reasons. In addition to their own cuteness, there are more and more unclear emotions and fate in them. I heard my father say that when I was born, my family��s The swallow is holding a nest. I thought that in the past, because my family was poor and my nutrition was not going up, my mother gave me a long period of no milk. I am waiting to be fed, my father had to condense milk for me every day. When my father brewed condensed milk, I temporarily stored me in a basket, because the inside of the old house was a little dark, I was afraid that I would cry, and the basket was placed in the bright room of the hall. I didn't expect that I would cry, and the little swallow above would stick out his head and call it. As soon as they called, I squinted and looked at them. Perhaps it is just looking at it, it seems to be forgetting to cry. At this time, my father took the opportunity to brew the condensed milk and put it in the bottle to start feeding me. I usually whisper in the Yan language, crying and stopping, drinking the nutrition of life - condensed milk, etc. I can read, and taught the private grandfather to recite the "Wu Yi Xiang" of the Chinese Liu Yuxi: "Suzaku Bridge Wild grass flowers Newport 100S, Wuyi alleys at sunset. When the old Wang Xietang Qianyan, flew into the homes of ordinary people." When I first read, I really don't understand what "wuyi" means, just listen to the adults saying "the world crows Black, I thought that "wuyi" should be "black"; I heard that the "alley" of "street alley" is the "hutong" in our place, thinking that "wuyixiang" is wearing black clothes. The place where people live. But why do people who wear black clothes want to live there, I always can't figure out that at the time, my family happened to be living in a hutong mouth, behind the house is a street, the grandparents and grandparents who came out of the hutong Marlboro Lights, indeed, mostly Wearing black clothes. However, my brother and sister-in-law are wearing a deep blue. At that time, there was no bridge in our village, and there was only one ferry boat on the Jialu River behind the village. On both sides of the street, up to the foundation of the house, wild grass grows and spreads, long, sturdy, well-known, unknown, and grass. I remember that at that time, the most was the kind of masts and stars, tall, like the raised palms. Of course, there are dandelions. The breeze blows, it is like a small umbrella, flying around. In the evening, I often stood under the banyan tree under the corner of the corner of the house, waiting for my parents to return home. How many times he picked up his heels and looked westward along the street. The setting sun slowly fell, and the distant sky was covered with a red glow. In my childhood memories, in addition to the bridge and the "wuyi" in the old home, the grass, the alley and the sunset, the scenery is almost exactly the same as in the poem. Every year in the late spring and early summer, the small swallows of the well-being come together, and the nests of the halls are still in their nests. They are still so warm and conspicuous. But I don't know, why did they leave the nest, and it took so long to go, it really made people wait hard. I know that it is common for us to stay close to us. Ordinary pass "people's home", I thought that the "pre-tang swallow" that is free and flying, it will not be the Wang Xie two of Wuyixiangkou that year? If I calculate by time, the time difference is too long, I think it is impossible. However, judging from the appearance of returning Yan, I am sure that they must be a family. As for whether it is a family or not, I am afraid it is difficult to verify that it has been remembered. At that time, the wooden door of my old house was not dried. Made of willow wood, the back and forth are a little separated, and the two ends are nailed with a nail Newport Cigarettes Coupons. Even so Marlboro Cigarettes, the two doors are still not tight. However, this just leaves room for the swallows to enter and exit. Imagine that the Swallow's crossings once and for all were no less difficult than today's flight performances, but I have never seen them mistaken and become friends in life. At that time, I thought, everything in my family, especially the old house, there is no secret at all for them. We used to call the old house a "house". The house is two old-fashioned ridge houses, with seven layers of heels underneath, and the size of the bricks is almost the same. Between the layers, the high and low, the clay bricks are larger than the fingertips. Due to the long-term rain erosion and erosion, the wall base is covered with moss. The wall of the old house is the kind of soil scorpion mixed with wheat stubble. It is thick, five or six feet high, and the roots will not reach one foot. The adults will slightly squat and raise their hands to touch the house raft. We often write and draw pictures there. Of course, the swallows are the eaves of the old houses that are difficult to understand. They are made of blue bricks and a square brick buckle called "eight bricks". Under the eaves, when the house is covered, the "eye-wearing" of the shelf is used. Some of them are not filled, and after the wind and rain are eroded, the outer layer of mud will fall off, and it will often become a good place for the sparrow to inhabit. Now I want to come, the sparrow at that time can really be called "more." Not only is it much, but it is also particularly daring. If you catch up with the autumn harvest season, there are always corn,

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