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发表时间:2021-11-19 16:24

台下掌声经久不息,站在领奖台上,拿着书法获奖证书的我激动不已,但此时我多想对父亲说:“谢谢你,我亲爱的爸爸!”



星酷从小,我便是一个淘气的孩子。闲了,不是上树捉“知了”,便是下河捕鱼虾。闷了,总忍不住在父亲的纸上画几个小人儿。为培养我的“定力”,父亲便叫我抓起了毛笔,谁知这一抓,便已越过了八个春秋。


在父亲的帮助下,在区里的比赛中我荣获三个第一、一个第二的好成绩。心中不免沾沾自喜:“爸,你以后别让我参加什么比赛了,我一出马,第一到家。”父亲笑了笑,带我去参观了省里举行的少年书画展。看到墙壁上精美的书法作品,我才明白,什么叫“井底之蛙”。父亲领着我一幅一幅地看,有的字气魄宏伟,有的字清新淡雅,有的字如挺拔的高山、汹涌的`大海,有的字如山中的小溪,令人回味无穷。父亲笑着问道:“怎么样?”我握紧了父亲的手:“爸,回家摆开笔墨,我可不甘落于人后啊!”父亲又轻轻地笑了。


“提笔即是练字时”,父亲总是这样教导我。夏天,烈日炎炎,我却在四方台旁,挥笔洒墨。父亲也舍弃了电扇、空调,在桌旁对我悉心地指导:“练字是要用心去体会的,这样才会有所精进!”冬天,寒风刺骨,父亲总是站在我的身旁,帮我洗笔,却忘了自己手上的冻疮。每次写字,他总不忘提醒我:“做人要像这字,要稳重,要四四方方呀。”我懂父亲的心。


这回在省书法交流赛中,我又拿奖了。父亲在台下望着我,脸上依旧挂着和蔼可亲的笑容。

英语翻译

The applause from the audience was prolonged. Standing on the podium, holding the calligraphy award certificate, I was very excited, but at this time I wanted to say to my father: "Thank you, my dear father!"




Xingku has been a naughty child since I was a child. Free time is not to go up to the tree to catch "Zhi", or to go down the river to fish for shrimp. I'm so bored, I can't help but draw a few little people on my father's paper. In order to cultivate my "concentration", my father asked me to grab a brush. Who knows that this grab has passed eight springs and autumns.


With the help of my father, I won three firsts and one second in the district competitions. I couldn't help but feel complacent: "Dad, don't let me participate in any competitions in the future. I will be the first time I get home." My father smiled and took me to the juvenile painting and calligraphy exhibition held in the province. Only after seeing the exquisite calligraphy works on the wall did I understand what a "frog at the bottom of a well" is. My father led me to look at them one by one. Some of the words were magnificent, some were fresh and elegant, some were like tall mountains and turbulent seas, and some were like streams in the mountains, which were endlessly evocative. My father smiled and asked, "How?" I squeezed my father's hand: "Dad, go home and open the pen and ink, I am not willing to be left behind!" My father smiled softly again.


"When you lift a pen is to practice calligraphy," my father always taught me this way. In the summer, the sun was scorching, but I was beside the Quartet platform, brushing and splashing ink. My father also gave up the electric fan and air conditioner, and carefully guided me at the table: "Practicing calligraphy is to experience with heart, so that you can be more diligent!" In winter, the cold wind is bitter, and my father always stands by my side. , Helped me wash the pen, but forgot the frostbite on my hand. Every time he writes, he never forgets to remind me: "You must be like this character, prudent, and square." I understand my father's heart.


This time I won another prize in the Provincial Calligraphy Exchange Competition. My father looked at me from the stage, still with an amiable smile on his face.


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