我手写我心
或许是遗传，或许是本性，不可否认，我对文字有着独特的钟情。
不同于英文字母的圆润，中国汉字有着一份独有的镌秀与坚韧，似乎可以写出一个人的精神与灵魂，中国有句俗话，叫做“字如其人”，任何人都希望自己可以写一笔好字，而我也不例外。
但当母亲领着我第一次踏入书法班的教室时，我却意外的感到厌恶与烦躁，教字的女老师灵活自如的运用她的手腕示范出一个个方方正正的汉字，耐心且热情，我却愈发无奈，白纸黑字，何乐之有？终于，我无数次的敷衍了事激怒了老师，在狠狠批评了我的作业后，老师惩罚我一天写十张，一张五十个字，而非我之前投机取巧的一个大字了事。我欲哭无泪，又因害怕母亲发现自己的“非常表现”，我只能在半夜偷偷爬起床完成作业。当黑色的夜趁着昏黄的灯，饱蘸浓墨的毛笔慵懒的划过纸张时，我却忽然发觉写字的奇妙之所，乐趣之在。夜凉如玉，心静如水，唯一的声响，便是纸与笔摩擦的刷刷声响，以及，我异常沉稳的心跳——那是第一次，我爱上写字。

I write my soul

It is perhaps the gene, or my nature but I cannot deny that I harbor special feelings toward Chinese characters.
Unlike English words, which are smooth, Chinese characters are elegantly beautiful without failing to be tough – looking. There is a proverb that goes: “ the characters one writes are the reflection of his disposition. It seems that one can convey his soul by calligraphy. Everyone wants to write nice characters. I am no exception.
However the first time I was taken to a calligraphy class by my mother, I surprisingly felt aversion and upset. The female teacher produced a nicely square character on the board with her skillful hand. She was patient and warm but I was bored – what fun was there with paper and ink? At last, my long –time carelessness exasperated her. After making a hash remark about my homework she demanded that I write as punishment 500 characters each day, 50 per piece, so I could not write the way I had used to. I was desperate but I could not cry out. For fear that my mom would find out my “extraordinary performance”in the class, I had no other options but to creep out of my bed late at night to do the assignment. Shrouded in darkness with a candlelight casting dimmed yellowish light, when my brush was slipping across the paper, I accidently found the joy of calligraphy. The night was cool and my heart was as clam as still water, at such moments the sole sound I could hear was that caused by the rubbing between my brush and paper. And I could even hear my heart beat. That night, I fell in love with calligraphy.


力不从心，译文有地方还需斟酌，望高士指点！