盛夏时分，灿烂的阳光透过窗户，洒在简朴的房间中的木质书桌上。桌子上平铺着毛毡上，是一张又一张细薄的宣纸，时而粗旷，时而豪放，时而婉转的自己在纸上绽放。我放下毛笔，仰头望向远处的公园，不禁对那一位老人感激万分。
In the scorching summer, the brilliant sunlight shines through the window and onto the wooden desk in the simple room. On the table, there were thin sheets of rice paper lying flat on the felt, sometimes rough, sometimes bold, and sometimes gentle, blooming on the paper. I put down my brush and looked up at the park in the distance, feeling extremely grateful to that old man.
记得是去年的春天，万物生机勃发之时，我参加了一个书法班，学习中国传统文化智慧之结晶——毛笔字。我很快便沉醉于舞文弄墨所带来的成就感与喜悦感之中，每天花大把时间练习毛笔。然而，即使我练的很勤，我的字也没有什么长进，反而在很多时候因为过于心急而丑陋不堪。我因此非常苦恼烦躁，辗转反侧，苦苦思索着如何写好那一个个繁杂的字。和煦的春风吹拂而过，我望了望窗外，决定放下烦恼，出去走一走。
I remember it was last spring, when all things were flourishing, and I attended a calligraphy class to learn the crystallization of traditional Chinese cultural wisdom - brush calligraphy. I quickly immersed myself in the sense of achievement and joy brought by dancing and writing, spending a lot of time practicing calligraphy every day. However, even though I practiced diligently, my handwriting did not improve much, and often became ugly due to being too impatient. I am very distressed and restless because of this, tossing and turning, struggling to figure out how to write those complicated words well. The warm spring breeze blew by, and I looked out the window, deciding to let go of my worries and go out for a walk.
我穿过车水马龙的过道，来到家旁的一处公园。春正挥舞着画笔，在公园中大显她的才华。平滑的石板路环绕着一片巨大的草坪，不规则的花坛承载着锦簇的百般红紫。草坪边的溪水声悦耳地响着，各类的鱼在清澈见底的小溪中欢腾着。人们的欢笑声传来，他们有的在野餐，有的扔着飞盘，各各享受着春光的沐浴。“儿童放学归来早，忙趁东风放纸鸢。”草地上还有几个小孩，尽情地撒欢着。在人群中，我注意到了一位白发苍苍的老人，正手持一杆长柄笔，在石板路上画着。我走近一瞧，见那老人正在写李白的《将进酒》，淡淡的水痕映现于石地上。他的字，有如盛开的花朵，端庄文雅；有如海中波涛，排山倒海，汹涌豪放。“天生我材必有用，千金散尽还复来。”老人的字，仿佛与太白的佳作融为一体，豪放，洒脱。我痴痴地在一旁看出了神，老人忽然转过身来，向我微笑道：“见你看了那么久，一定懂点书法，你来试试！”我小心翼翼地接过沉重的笔杆，集中注意力，写下了个大大的“春”字，虽然谈不上好看，但也颇为方正。我把笔还给老人，不禁觉得手酸痛不已，于是问道：“老爷爷，您这样写，手肯定很酸吧？”老人接过笔，笑着答：“当然酸啦，但多练练就能忍受了。”随后，他又开始书写新的诗作。
I walked through a busy passage and arrived at a park next to my home. Chun is waving her paintbrush and showcasing her talent in the park. A smooth slate road surrounds a huge lawn, and irregular flower beds carry clusters of various red and purple colors. The sound of the stream by the lawn is pleasant, and various types of fish are frolicking in the clear and bottomless stream. The laughter of people came, some were having picnics, some were throwing frisbees, each enjoying the spring shower. Children come back early from school, busy taking advantage of the east wind to fly kites. There are still a few children on the grass, enjoying themselves to the fullest. In the crowd, I noticed an elderly man with white hair, holding a long handled pen and drawing on the stone road. I approached and saw the old man writing Li Bai's "Drinking Wine", with faint water marks reflected on the stone floor. His words are like blooming flowers, dignified and elegant; Like the waves in the sea, towering and unrestrained. The old man's words seem to blend seamlessly with Tai Bai's masterpiece, 'I am born with talent and will always be useful. A thousand pieces of gold will be scattered and come back again.' They are bold and unrestrained. I was lost in thought and saw the divine beside me. Suddenly, the old man turned around and smiled at me, saying, "I've seen you read for so long, you must know some calligraphy. Come and try it out!" I carefully took the heavy pen handle, focused my attention, and wrote a big "spring" character. Although it wasn't very beautiful, it was quite square. I returned the pen to the old man and couldn't help but feel my hands sore. So I asked, "Grandpa, must your hands be sore when you write like this?" The old man took the pen and smiled, saying, "Of course it's sore, but with more practice, you can endure it." Then he began writing new poems.
次日，我又来“拜访“老人，他仍在老地方练习书法，这次写得是《行路难》。”老爷爷“，我向前一步，问道：”您能教教我怎么练字吗？“”这有什么好教的。“老爷爷道：”坚持练习就好了，不因小的挫折而气馁，每天定时书写，时间一久，字便写好了。“我点了点头，抱着试一试的心态，每天定时练习。我也常去找老人，与他交流一些心得与体会。渐渐地，我的字取得了进步，我对书法，也越发热爱。终于，在一次大赛中，我取得了优异的名次，证明了自己。
The next day, I came to "visit" the old man again. He was still practicing calligraphy in his old place, and this time he wrote "Difficulties on the Road." Grandpa, "I took a step forward and asked," Can you teach me how to practice calligraphy? What's there to teach about this. The old master said, "Just keep practicing and don't be discouraged by small setbacks. Write regularly every day, and over time, you'll be able to write well. I nodded with a try it out attitude and practiced regularly every day. I also often went to the elderly person to exchange some experiences and insights with him. Gradually, my handwriting improved and I became more passionate about calligraphy. Finally, in a competition, I won an excellent title and proved myself.
”长风破浪会有时，直挂云帆济沧海。“老人书写的《行路难》中的诗句仍使我印象深刻。老人的书法，他的坚持使我敬佩。原来美，就在身边。
”Sometimes the wind breaks through the waves, and the sail hangs straight over the vast sea. The lines of poetry in the old man's poem 'Difficulties on the Road' still leave a deep impression on me. The old man's calligraphy and persistence make me admire him. It turns out that beauty is right beside me.