烟台的冬天

Winter in Yantai

四季分明的烟台,每个季节都有着鲜明的特点。一到了冬天,山上山下的树,黄的、红的、枯褐色的叶子,有单个的有成对的,还有三五成群的,纷纷扬扬、飘飘洒洒、前赴后继、飞蛾扑火般决绝地离开给予它生命的树木,只剩下粗的细的弯弯曲曲干瘪的枝条,在灰色的天幕上孤独地伸展着摇晃着。海浪也收起了它温柔的一面,不再是一身湛蓝绸衣、细风和雨、小鸟依人的温婉女子而变成了疆场上粗犷暴烈的猛汉,身着灰色的盔甲铁青个脸。当西伯利亚的寒流携七八级大风气势汹汹地奔来时,它立刻拉缰上马,指挥着千军万马以排山倒海之势迎风而上。

In Yantai, a city of four distinct seasons, every season has distinct characteristics. When winter comes, trees all over the mountain are full of yellow, red and pale brown leaves, some single, some in pairs and some in groups, fluttering, drifting and like a moth to flame resolutely and successively leaving the trees that endow them with life, only leaving curvy and drying branches of all sizes that spread and rock lonesomely against the gray sky. Sea waves are not gentle any longer, changing from a mild, breezy and lovely lady dressed in azure satin clothes into a crude and fiery warrior in the battlefield wearing gray helmet and armor and a livid face. When the cold currents from Siberia rush aggressively with gales at Level 7 or Level 8, it immediately pulls the strings and mounts a horse and commands its troops to go tailwind powerfully. Instantly, the wind howls passionately and rolls up gigantic piles of snow, making thunder-like sounds. It fights hard from the sea to the shore, overturning stone stools weighting hundreds of jin(0.5 kilograms per jin) and leaving sea water splashed. It reveals fearless heroism that would rather die than catering to evil.