when, live in lane in, always flower girl is passed from the doorway, carrying the flower of full car.
儿时，家住小巷深处，总有卖花女从门口经过，载着满车的花。
she is wearing scarf, the foot steps tricycle, carrying not fresh flower, stoop is worn back, do not calculate indeed on elegant, as if to also allow picture increase a few minutes of gray.
她戴着头巾，脚踏三轮车，载着并不新鲜的花，佝偻着背，着实算不上优雅，仿佛也让画面增多了几分灰色。
flower girl is not very suffers a person to wait for see. be in quiet and unruffled afternoon, we should like to ask, who wants to be enraged the faze of cry out sound of shake the land of country qing meng? "sell a flower! sell a flower... " every time cry out arrives half, have explode the neighbour of disposition malcontent loud shout: "did not cry, still let do not let a person sleep? ! " flower girl is met silent, be forced to ask along the road the pedestrian to otherwise wants to buy a flower, sell do not go out to turn around. just do not go out a few days, can take cry out tone again. although everybody resents very in the heart, but as time passes, no longer multibarrel. flower girl still is peddling everyday.
卖花女是不怎么受人待见的。在静谧安详的午后，试问，谁想被气震山河的吆喝声扰了清梦呢？“卖花喽！卖花……”每次吆喝到一半，便有爆脾气的邻居不满地大声嚷嚷：“别喊了，还让不让人睡觉？！”卖花女便会沉默一阵，只好问问沿路行人要不要买花，卖不出去便掉头走了。只是不出几天，又会带着吆喝声回来。虽然大家心中都颇为不满，但久而久之，便不再多管了。卖花女依然每天叫卖着。
flash key point arrived the summer of the intense heat of summer. "sell a flower! sell a flower! " a sound of sodorous loud and clear, transmit in alley as a child. hot and dry afternoon, the brandish with wanton sun asperses a ray, the head of tree straight slouch that bask in. special chinese rhubarb dog also bends over to say a tongue on the ground, sinister sun forces lock of every family door. sound of this cry out more impatient letting a person enrages impetuous, big who can carry sinister sun on the head to buy the fancy suiting that there is economic value midday? more want siesta at that time what is more,the rather that, be afraid of disturb others? "sell a flower! sell a flower! rose, yulan magnolia, all has... " peddle annoyingly sound rings again, resemble a needle simply, want to prick the ear film that cuts me.
一晃眼到了酷暑的夏天。“卖花喽！卖花喽！”一阵高亢嘹亮的声音，从小巷深处传来。午后燥热，太阳肆意的挥洒光芒，晒的树直耷拉脑袋。看家的大黄狗也趴在地上吐舌头，毒辣的太阳逼得家家户户房门紧闭。这吆喝声更加让人心浮气躁，大中午谁会顶着毒辣的太阳去买没有实用价值的花呢？更何况这时候要午睡，难道不怕打搅别人吗？“卖花喽！卖花喽！玫瑰，玉兰，样样都有……”烦人的叫卖声又一次响起，简直像一根针，要刺破我的耳膜。
i just wanted to push a window, call that flower girl in a low voice a bit. smell head, it is the nose that a rainwater hits in me however. i look up look, discover blue sky has been enclothed by black clouds. back-to-back, fell to wash rice the spit of drop of the sound of rain.
我刚想推开窗，叫那个卖花女小声一点。探出头，却是一滴雨水打在了我的鼻头。我抬头看，发现蓝天已经被乌云覆盖。紧接着，便下起了淅淅沥沥的小雨。
at this moment, i hear flower girl indistinctly again crying some of what. perpendicular ear listens: "rained, receive the dress, will quickly receive the dress! " instantly, have a lot of both hands from extend inside the window come, those fast be come over by wringing dress rescue. i can't help mind heats up: her profession is to sell a flower, remind others to rain the obligation that receiving the garment is not her. in hazy wet, those a few remind the warmth outside letting a person feel to divide. look so, brutal person seems to become me.
这时，我又隐隐约约地听到卖花女在叫喊些什么。竖耳一听：“下雨了，收衣服嘞，快来收衣服嘞！”刹那间，便有许多双手从窗内伸出来，将那些快被淋湿的衣服抢救过来。我不禁心头一热：她的职业是卖花，提醒别人下雨收衣不是她的义务。在朦胧的雨天，那几声提醒让人觉得分外温馨。这样一看，不讲理的人好像一下变成我了。
look from the window again, a shabby tricycle, the plastic raincoat of a suit drape, one build wears the flower girl of beautiful towel, still that one car does not calculate fresh flower, solemned a moving wash. shallow pink, light violet, what smelt metal of happy and harmonious seductivelies dressed or made up is yellow, in finely rain, have the taste of kind of elfland really unexpectedly, if the dream is like unreal.
再从窗口望去，一辆破旧的三轮车，一身褶皱的塑料雨衣，一个头戴花巾的卖花女，还有那一车不算新鲜的花，俨然成了一幅动人的水墨画。浅浅的粉，淡淡的紫，融融冶冶的黄，在细碎的雨中，竟真有种仙境的味道，如梦似幻。
i and flower girl had not touched a few, but the regular meeting when me remembers her. remember the back of her stoop, remember her biedermeier is spent, remember she is in mist rain is hazy in ongoing back.
我与卖花女没碰过几面，但我时常会想起她。想起她佝偻的背，想起她不新鲜的花，想起她在雾雨朦胧中前进的背影。
in my growing course, the cry out sound of flower girl is incessant yu er, her flower not only sweet off-street, sweeter our heart.
在我的成长历程中，卖花女的吆喝声不绝于耳，她的花不仅香了小巷，更香了我们的心。