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My ideal classroom, is a painting. We can use our tender hands to depict their own piece of the sky, to draw their favorite mountain of water a world; a write down their vulgar, bad mood, you can draw a small boat, You can also draw a green wave rippling river, on both sides plus the rows of willow or draw their favorite flowers, boating on the lake, watching a blossoming lotus leaves in the middle layers, are dotted white flowers, some blooming gracefully, there are shy bud; and as a scattering pearls, or twinkling stars, and if just Bathing beauties.
The body in a field of flowers, and in fact, is a pleasure! Then I'll smile bright, lying on top of the boat, looking up at the blue sky, with his thoughts, to the right and wrong; breeze blowing, fragrance floating on the river will be thrown blossoming spray, given the rhythmic rushing sound, like a piece of music, melodious. The angry we can freely alter the above, add to it a few strokes, rain pattering Lek, like a broken string of pearls under the day and night is still dormant. When the bottle of ink sprinkled on top, the wind whistling blowing, the rain splashed steadily. Reveals the window, nor a figure on campus, in vain spent full of water, simply become a flowing river, above scrambling to open numerous spray; distance, buildings and trees are vague. No matter how I go to draw, how to describe the kind, but I can never out beyond the frame.
The body in a field of flowers, and in fact, is a pleasure! Then I'll smile bright, lying on top of the boat, looking up at the blue sky, with his thoughts, to the right and wrong; breeze blowing, fragrance floating on the river will be thrown blossoming spray, given the rhythmic rushing sound, like a piece of music, melodious. The angry we can freely alter the above, add to it a few strokes, rain pattering Lek, like a broken string of pearls under the day and night is still dormant. When the bottle of ink sprinkled on top, the wind whistling blowing, the rain splashed steadily. Reveals the window, nor a figure on campus, in vain spent full of water, simply become a flowing river, above scrambling to open numerous spray; distance, buildings and trees are vague. No matter how I go to draw, how to describe the kind, but I can never out beyond the frame.
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