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主播：Bruce
本期文稿
春天来了，那些严寒与冰冻终于过去了，这些阳光与桃花又来了，大地敞开了胸怀，万物也来了精神。春天，是美好的季节，是充满诗情的季节；春天，又意味着一个生机勃勃的开始。
春眠不觉晓，处处啼鸟，夜来风雨声，花落知多少？春天是个绚丽多彩的季节，春光明媚，春暧花开，万物苏醒，百花开放，姹紫嫣红，它是诗人和画家笔下的宠儿。
行走在铺满春色的大地上，明媚的阳光驱逐了心中的最后一丝阴霾，尽情沐浴着暖阳，明亮和温暖是春色给予生命的第一信号；而那温润的春风，虽然浅淡轻柔，可是只要她抚慰过的土地，就会兀自一片生机勃发 ，难怪古人会留下“野火烧不尽，春风吹又生”的诗句了。
Look at the blue sky, hear the grass growing beneath your feet, inhale the scent of spring, let the fruits of the earth linger on your tongue, reach out and embrace those you love. Ask Spirit to awaken your awareness to the sacredness of your sensory perceptions. What a miracle it is. No matter how long the winter, how hard the frost or how deep the snow, Nature triumphs. No season is awaited so eagerly or welcomed so warmly as spring…Each year I am astonished by the wealth of flowers the season gives us: the subtlety of the wild primroses and violets, the rich palette of crocus in the parks, tall soldier tulips and proud trumpeting daffodils and narcissi. Picture this: The air and the earth interpenetrated in the warm gusts of spring; the soil was full of sunlight, and the sunlight full of red dust. The air one breathed was saturated with earthy smells, and the grass under foot had a reflection of blue sky in it. Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment. In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.
田野上，油菜花开了，嫩绿的叶托着金黄的花，在阳光下花海一片，格外的灿烂炫目，熠熠生辉，微风吹起，花儿荡漾，空气中弥漫着花香，置身于花团簇拥的世界里，心旷神怡！田野上竟然还有几只喜鹊相互追逐着，飞来飞去，它们似乎也贪恋着迷人的景色。
桃花映红几天后，就是杏花的世界了。春风十里杏花香。风一吹，翩翩飞舞的花瓣，似一场清凉的杏花雨，凄美，婉转，淡淡的哀怨，有一种令人窒息的美感。惹人疼，惹人怜。
最后该轮到梨花粉墨登场了。“忽如一夜春风来，千树万树梨花开”，那一场梨花雪啊，纷纷扬扬，铺天盖地，气势浩荡！纷纷开且落。春天呈献给大地的是一场又一场花的盛宴，今朝有酒今朝醉，“人生得意须尽欢，莫使金樽空对月”，切莫辜负了这大好华年。
静静地看春意渐浓，花开满枝，新绿满地，风含情，水带笑。采一朵白云的悠闲，携一缕柳韵的温婉，揽一份诗意入怀，静听风，枕花眠。静坐在花闲，水碧，风清的诗情画意里；听乌鸣，看烟柳，赏春水，闻花香，活在流年的光阴里，用感恩的心去体味生活的美好，珍惜这每个花开花落的过往；用一份清淡平和的心情，去体会四季轮回中的春色年年好，就算不枉来世间走一回。
如果我们无计留住春天，且让一句“落红不是无情物，化作春泥更护花”来安慰那份心底的失落吧。
最后一首Thomas Nash 的Spring送给大家：
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Spring! The sweet spring!
