人生之春能有几何？一朵朵花开了又谢，一代代人去了又来。我伫立于家乡的田野之上，迎面吹来的，是阵阵醉人的春风。
How long can the spring of life be? A flower blooms and withers, generations come and go. I stand on the fields of my hometown, and the intoxicating spring breeze blows towards me.
一年阳春又至，眼下是一大片的油菜花，半米高的一棵棵，能将膝盖淹没。一朵朵地，正笔直地挺立着身躯，努力地朝着太阳的方向，生长。它们生来便拥有太阳的颜色，金黄的，与那绿的根相映衬，煞是好看。不用刻意地吸一口新鲜空气，便已被这气息紧紧包围了。几只白蝴蝶扇动着翅膀，盘旋着。一派好春。
A year of spring has arrived again, and now there is a large area of rapeseed flowers, half a meter high, that can submerge knees. One by one, standing tall and straight, striving to grow towards the direction of the sun. They are born with the color of the sun, golden, which complements the green roots and looks really beautiful. Without deliberately taking a breath of fresh air, you are already tightly surrounded by this aura. A few white butterflies flapped their wings and circled. A good spring.
油菜花田的后面是家中的老屋，红瓦白墙，墙面早剥落了一大块。斑驳的门也已褪色，窗是已关不上了。不变的是它静静地伫立，在凄风苦雨中涉过它的这几十年。
Behind the rapeseed field is the old house at home, with red tiles and white walls, and a large piece of the wall has long peeled off. The mottled door has also faded, and the window can no longer be closed. What remains unchanged is that it stands quietly, wading through its decades in the bitter wind and rain.
这里是曾祖父母曾经的居所，他们于此度过了他们的壮年，那是几十个冬夏，几千个日夜。如今，他们早已消逝在人海，在另一方世界，默默地守候着一代又一代新生命，亦有当下的我。
This was the former residence of my great grandparents, where they spent their prime years. It was dozens of winters and summers, thousands of days and nights. Nowadays, they have long disappeared into the sea of people, silently waiting for generation after generation of new life in another world, including the current me.
微风拂面，油菜花海渐起涟漪。它们何不是当下的我们？载着一份希望与明媚，长在大好的春日里。那座老屋，见证了它们多年的生命规律。就如此一年年地交替，往复，循环……
A gentle breeze brushes against my face, causing ripples to gradually form in the sea of rapeseed flowers. Why aren't they the current us? Carrying hope and brightness, growing in the beautiful spring days. That old house witnessed their years long life cycle. So it alternates year after year, back and forth, in a cycle
人也当如此。
People should do the same.
几年前的一个清明，同家人去上坟。细支末节的小事有些已不大能记清。唯一有些印象的是那肃穆的场合，大家都很安静地来拜访祖先。四方的一个个小格子上有锁，后辈们怀着崇敬的心情打开。那儿，承载着无数个家庭的牵挂；那儿，存着一个个在家族中承前启后，继往开来的角色。那是我第一次以这种方式同曾祖父母见面。学着大人的样子，行些祭拜的仪式。这一刻，他们也在守望，望着一代代的子孙不断焕发出新的活力，望着无数个未来的日子，这支家族能一直“兴”下去。
A few years ago on a Qingming Festival, I went to the grave with my family. I can't quite remember some of the small details in the details. The only impression I have is the solemn occasion where everyone came quietly to visit their ancestors. The small squares in all directions have locks, which the younger generations open with reverence. There, carrying the worries of countless families; There, there are characters who carry on the past and open up the future in the family. That was the first time I met my great grandparents in this way. Learn from adults and perform some worship rituals. At this moment, they are also watching, watching as generations of descendants continue to radiate new vitality, and looking forward to countless future days where this family can continue to thrive.
没有一个春天能够永恒，唯有生命之春，家族之春。未来，还有多少油菜花会开？还有多少代人会更替？我并不清楚。但生命总能得到另一方式的延续，家族总会“长江后浪推前浪，一代更比一代强”。
No spring can be eternal, only the spring of life and the spring of family. How many rapeseed flowers will bloom in the future? How many more generations will change? I'm not sure. But life can always be extended in another way, and families will always' push the waves behind the Yangtze River, and each generation is stronger than the next '.
春日的印迹，有“守”有“传”。这“春”没有轮回，只会亘古不息地前进。
The imprint of spring has both "guarding" and "passing on". This' spring 'has no cycle, it will only move forward endlessly throughout history.