过年的味道

窗上贴的纸花唯留下浅浅的痕迹，是因怕弄花了玻璃;门边的对联也不见踪影，是因怕有一日待它半垂落于地上，惹得不吉利;路边刮着寒风，从前连街的灯笼，也随来往的车尘飘散。

回老家的路上冷冷清清，冰凉织着蛛网的卷帘门，隔绝了邻里的热情。

门开，屋里仅有单调的电视在唱单调的独角戏，亲朋好友的眼睛，皆被手上捧着的亮屏死死吸引着。

不断发展的信息时代，好像正渐渐冲淡着亲情，包括旧俗带来的，不单是所谓意义上的“团聚”。

年味，年味。年在，味逝?

为免尴尬，我一次又一次地在透亮的手机屏上印下指印。震动的手机，灰暗的头像第一次抹着彩纹欢快的跳动。姐姐!三年不见于异地他乡徘徊的姐姐，此刻在头像的另一方，依旧用她三年前那样自信又温柔的目光，在注视着我。

记得以前的每一次春节，姐姐都是围绕在我身边。她比我大两岁多一点，却像个小大人似的，把我紧紧护住。年味是什么?便是我躲在她身后怯望礼花绽放于夜空，把黑夜刹时照亮时姐姐惊喜又向往的浓浓期待;便是我探着脑袋，在年夜饭里找寻美食时，她替我搞定时，那副得意实是关心的甜蜜;便是我死盯长辈手上鼓鼓的红包，她在背后悄悄教我妙语连珠的祝福词，收获与“合作”成功的兴奋。

其实啊，姐姐，每一年，每一个春节，你才是我心中最有滋味的回忆。你的笑颜，你的身影，结成我新一年的动力，难以忘怀。

信息的进步，把你我热泪盈眶的面孔印在对方手心中，这块小小的屏幕。

新年的钟声敲响，震醒了沉睡的鞭炮和灯笼，到处洋溢着幸福。一年，有一年，过去成为历史，现在是崭新的一页。

忆一种别致的年味，曾经相聚一堂，拉长长的家常，把旧年画上充满笑声的句号;现在纵使分隔两地，时代在冲散旧俗的原味，却以另一种崭新的方式，使亲人间放下担忧，以全新的状态迎接新年，那样的温馨，那样的幸运。

英语翻译：

The paper flowers pasted on the window only left shallow traces, because they were afraid of staining the glass; the couplet by the door was also missing, because I was afraid that one day it would be unlucky when it half-hanged on the ground; the roadside was scratched. In the cold wind, the lanterns on the street in the past also drifted away with the dust from the passing cars.

The road back to his hometown was deserted and cold, and the cold rolling door woven with cobwebs isolated the enthusiasm of the neighborhood.

The door opened, and there was only a monotonous TV singing monotonous one-man shows in the room. The eyes of relatives and friends were all attracted by the bright screen in their hands.

The ever-evolving information age seems to be gradually diluting family affection, including those brought about by old customs. It is not just a "reunion" in the so-called sense.

New year flavor, new year flavor. Years are, the taste is gone?

To avoid embarrassment, I printed my fingerprints on the translucent phone screen time and time again. The mobile phone was shaking, and the gray head was dancing happily with colored patterns for the first time. Sister! My sister, who has not seen me wandering in another place for three years, is now on the other side of the portrait, still watching me with the confident and gentle gaze she did three years ago.

I remember every Spring Festival before, my sister was surrounded by me. She was a little more than two years older than me, but she held me tightly like a little adult. What is the taste of the New Year? It is when I hide behind her and look forward to the fireworks blooming in the night sky, I am looking forward to my sister's surprise and yearning when the night is illuminated; it is when I poked my head and looked for food in the New Year's Eve dinner, She fixed the time for me, that pride is really the sweetness of caring; it is the red envelope that I fixed on the hands of the elders, and she quietly taught me the blessings of witty words behind the back, reaping the excitement of the success of "cooperation".

Actually, sister, every year, every Spring Festival, you are the most delicious memory in my heart. Your smile and your figure form the motivation for my new year, which is unforgettable.

The progress of information has imprinted the tearful faces of you and my eyes in the hands of the other party, this small screen.

The ringing of the New Year's bell awakened the sleeping firecrackers and lanterns, filled with happiness everywhere. One year, one year, the past has become history, and now is a new page.

Recalling a unique taste of the New Year, once gathered together, stretched the homework, and painted the old year full of laughter; now even if the two places are separated, the times are dissipating the original taste of the old customs, but in another brand-new way , Let the relatives let go of their worries and welcome the New Year in a brand-new state, so warm and so lucky.