第五課

  1. 一. 課堂討論題

2. 你覺得這篇文章的題目合適嗎? 為什麼? 你能想出一個更合適的題目嗎?

文章的題目合適, 因為他是在講時間過的很快. 我不能想出更好的題目.

3. 本文所描寫的一個什麼樣的抽象事物?

本文所描寫的是時間.

7. 本文在語言使用上有何特色? 請舉例說明.

文章使用擬人法, 隠喻, 和疊詞.

9. 做這在文中使用了大量的文句, 並且用問句結束文章, 這樣做的好處是什麼.

他要讓讀者想這個題目.

10. 本文作者希望通過這篇文章提醒我們要怎樣做? 看過課文後你有什麼感受呢?

作者希望我們珍習時間. 我覺得我要把握時間.

11. 作者為何選擇使用 “薄霧, 輕煙” 來形容所描寫的對象, 而不用 “海浪, 雷電” 一類的詞呢?

薄霧, 輕煙比較不明顯很容易被忽略像時間一樣.


六. 作文
English Translate Quiz 5: Hurry, Time is escaping
The swallow leaves and arrives again; the willow withers and grows green again; the peach flower wilts and blooms again. However, tell me genius, why do our days go and never revisit? – Is it because someone has taken it; who is it then? Where is it veiled? Did the days conceal by themselves; where are they now?
I don’t know how many days they have given me; however, the time is slowly leaving my hand. Silently, more than eight thousand days have passed from my hands; like a drop of water that insignificantly trickles down a needle tip in to the ocean, my days drip into a raging river without a sound or a shadow. I cannot help but feel continuously sweaty and teary.
The past in the past, the future is ahead of me; but in the present, how does one hurriedly pass the time? When I wake up in the morning, the sun shoots three slanted beams of light into my small little hut. The sun has legs, and it lightly and quietly moves; I absently follow the orbit of Earth around the Sun as time passes. Therefore, when I wash my hands, the time escapes through the basin; when I eat, the days come from my bowl and out; when it is silent, the sun passes across the fixed gaze of my eyes like time. I am aware of time’s hurry; I desperately try to trap the time in from escaping, but it somehow escapes my hand. When it is dark, I lay in bed, the time than agilely skips over my body, flying out from my legs. When I close my eyes and the sun sets, one day has ended and another trickle of time has left me. I sigh while I hide my face. However, when the new day comes, the time once again flashes in front of me.
In the turbulent fleeing flying specter of time, within the huge population of Earth, what can I possibly accomplish? I can only pace up and down, I can only chase hurriedly; in the eight thousand days of my life, apart from hesitating, what have I left over to show for. The passing days are like smoke blown away by a gust of random wind and the time scatters, covered up in a hazy mist being evaporated by the rising sun. The scars I leave behind on the arbitrary particle of time, where have they gone? How can I possibly leave a mark like a spider web decorates a room on the speeding highway of time?  I was naked when I was born to this world as a baby, and in the twinkling of the eye I will leave it nakedly. Why should I leave this world, contrary to expectations, to no purpose?
Listen to me genius; tell me, our days, how we get them back if they never return?