英語資源頻道為大家整理的六一兒童英語手抄報素材：那時的我們，小編在這里祝所有小朋友大朋友們節(jié)日快樂 永葆童心。
童年的我們，會在沙地里追逐玩耍，不管摔倒幾次，總會在各種挫折中爬起來。童年的我們，無憂無慮，沒有任何工作生活的煩惱，只是活在父母的愛和保護當中。
Childhood we, will chase play in the sand, no matter fell several times, always up in all kinds of frustrations. Childhood we, be light of heart from care, no work the troubles of life, just live in love and protection of parents.
童年的我們，會在百花簇放的春天里，追逐五顏六色的蝴蝶;會在綠意蔥蔥的夏季，游戲在蟬鳴蟈叫中;會在金黃色的秋天里，看落葉如天使般旋轉飛舞;會在銀裝素裹的冬天，穿著厚厚的外套，戴著紅紅的手套，奔跑在漫天雪地里，累了，就縮在母親溫暖的懷抱里，聽著那醉人的催眠曲，甜甜入睡，似乎快樂是永恒的，永遠都不會曉得醉紅樓，夢斷天涯為何物。
Childhood we, will be placed in the spring flowers clusters, chasing butterflies will be riotous with colour; the green trees in summer, cicadas in the game in one name; in the golden autumn, to see the leaves dancing as the angel rotation; in winter, the outer sleeve wear thick, wearing a red gloves, running in the sky snow, tired, will shrink in the mother warm arms, listening to the intoxicating lullaby, sweet sleep, it seems happy forever, never know drunk, what other side of the mountain.
那時的我們，會和伙伴們分享著一角錢一帶的唐僧肉，而終不知滄海桑田，曲終人散;那時的我們，會折下柳條做一個簡單的笛子，然后興致勃勃，歡天喜地的狂亂瞎吹，而從不在乎別人是否會笑話自己的笛技;那時的我們，會在畫紙上畫上大大的向日葵，放在枕頭下，認為這樣太陽公公就會鉆進夢里，與自己玩耍;那時的我們，會在清風微徐的傍晚，望著無邊無際掛滿星星的天空，天真的以為月亮里坐著一位白發(fā)蒼蒼的月亮姥姥，終年不間斷的在砸堅果吃。
Then we, and partners share a dime in the vicinity of Tang Seng meat, but not great, come to an end; then we will fold under the willow, do a simple flute, and then be in the best of spirits, be full of joy in the wild have, and never care whether others will laugh at his flute skill; then we, in the paper draw big sunflower, under the pillow, so that the sun will into the dream, and his play; then we will be in the wind, micro Xu evening, looking at the boundless hanging stars of the sky, naive to think that the moon sat a grey-haired moon grandma, not all the year round interrupted at smashing nuts.
手指糾纏著朦朧過往，敲打出動聽的音符，童年趣事在指尖游走，那是一張張或明或暗，或深或淺的畫，那是一頁頁或黑或白，或紅或綠的素箋。而這些純真的書卷，似銹蝕的刀鐮，一遍又一遍割著我們的記憶;又似一季斑駁的精華，飛花煙雨，過后無期!
Fingers entangled with hazy past, beating out the notes of song, my childhood at the fingertips of walk, that is a piece of Huoming or dark, or deep or shallow drawing, that is a page or white or black, or red or green pigment. These pure scroll, like rusty knife sickle, again and again to cut our memory; and like cream, season with rain after the fly, no period!
落英繽紛，趕來趕去的年華里，我們從無憂無慮的快樂走向為了生活不得不奮斗的顛簸，從純潔如白雪的天真走向再也不會與一堆沙丘為伍為伴的成熟，從清澈潔白的眼睛走向桃花凈盡后的凄然零落。
Fallen petals lie in profusion., chased away years, we to have to struggle to live be light of heart from care bumps from pleasure, as pure as snow from innocence to never again and a pile of sand dunes along with the mature, from the clear white eyes toward the peach blossom end after the desolate ran away.
漂泊在大都市的霓虹閃爍里，如一顆無依無靠的孤魂，四處飄散，淚眼倚樓頻獨語，抑或因為爭取那觸手不可及的幸福，抑或因為一月清輝的紅塵舊夢，抑或因為風往沉香幽夢已逝的無奈，抑或因為剪破煙花后的人去樓空。那份最初的笑容，最初的單純，如一紙未了的夙愿沉淀在夢的憂傷里。
Wandering in the metropolis of the flashing neon lights, like a helpless souls, floating around, with teary eyes I monologue, or for the tentacle may not and happiness, or because the January shining red dreams, or because the wind to aloes dream is helpless, or because the cut after the deserted fireworks. The first smile, first simple, such as a piece of unfinished dream long-cherished wish of the precipitation in blue.
那等待放學后游戲的童年，仿佛是用來懷念的，長大后的我們也總是碎碎念念，越來越懷念那些碎花般的舊時光，掃黛窗前月，惆悵如春草一樣，密密層層，條條狀狀，從未減少，也不失約。
Wait for after school the childhood game, as if to miss, growing up we always pieces of pronouncing, more and miss the old days those flowers like Dai, scan window, such as the spring grass as melancholy, packed closely layer upon layer, strip shape, never the less, do not miss.
童年的我們，會在沙地里追逐玩耍，不管摔倒幾次，總會在各種挫折中爬起來。童年的我們，無憂無慮，沒有任何工作生活的煩惱，只是活在父母的愛和保護當中。
Childhood we, will chase play in the sand, no matter fell several times, always up in all kinds of frustrations. Childhood we, be light of heart from care, no work the troubles of life, just live in love and protection of parents.
童年的我們，會在百花簇放的春天里，追逐五顏六色的蝴蝶;會在綠意蔥蔥的夏季，游戲在蟬鳴蟈叫中;會在金黃色的秋天里，看落葉如天使般旋轉飛舞;會在銀裝素裹的冬天，穿著厚厚的外套，戴著紅紅的手套，奔跑在漫天雪地里，累了，就縮在母親溫暖的懷抱里，聽著那醉人的催眠曲，甜甜入睡，似乎快樂是永恒的，永遠都不會曉得醉紅樓，夢斷天涯為何物。
Childhood we, will be placed in the spring flowers clusters, chasing butterflies will be riotous with colour; the green trees in summer, cicadas in the game in one name; in the golden autumn, to see the leaves dancing as the angel rotation; in winter, the outer sleeve wear thick, wearing a red gloves, running in the sky snow, tired, will shrink in the mother warm arms, listening to the intoxicating lullaby, sweet sleep, it seems happy forever, never know drunk, what other side of the mountain.
那時的我們，會和伙伴們分享著一角錢一帶的唐僧肉，而終不知滄海桑田，曲終人散;那時的我們，會折下柳條做一個簡單的笛子，然后興致勃勃，歡天喜地的狂亂瞎吹，而從不在乎別人是否會笑話自己的笛技;那時的我們，會在畫紙上畫上大大的向日葵，放在枕頭下，認為這樣太陽公公就會鉆進夢里，與自己玩耍;那時的我們，會在清風微徐的傍晚，望著無邊無際掛滿星星的天空，天真的以為月亮里坐著一位白發(fā)蒼蒼的月亮姥姥，終年不間斷的在砸堅果吃。
Then we, and partners share a dime in the vicinity of Tang Seng meat, but not great, come to an end; then we will fold under the willow, do a simple flute, and then be in the best of spirits, be full of joy in the wild have, and never care whether others will laugh at his flute skill; then we, in the paper draw big sunflower, under the pillow, so that the sun will into the dream, and his play; then we will be in the wind, micro Xu evening, looking at the boundless hanging stars of the sky, naive to think that the moon sat a grey-haired moon grandma, not all the year round interrupted at smashing nuts.
手指糾纏著朦朧過往，敲打出動聽的音符，童年趣事在指尖游走，那是一張張或明或暗，或深或淺的畫，那是一頁頁或黑或白，或紅或綠的素箋。而這些純真的書卷，似銹蝕的刀鐮，一遍又一遍割著我們的記憶;又似一季斑駁的精華，飛花煙雨，過后無期!
Fingers entangled with hazy past, beating out the notes of song, my childhood at the fingertips of walk, that is a piece of Huoming or dark, or deep or shallow drawing, that is a page or white or black, or red or green pigment. These pure scroll, like rusty knife sickle, again and again to cut our memory; and like cream, season with rain after the fly, no period!
落英繽紛，趕來趕去的年華里，我們從無憂無慮的快樂走向為了生活不得不奮斗的顛簸，從純潔如白雪的天真走向再也不會與一堆沙丘為伍為伴的成熟，從清澈潔白的眼睛走向桃花凈盡后的凄然零落。
Fallen petals lie in profusion., chased away years, we to have to struggle to live be light of heart from care bumps from pleasure, as pure as snow from innocence to never again and a pile of sand dunes along with the mature, from the clear white eyes toward the peach blossom end after the desolate ran away.
漂泊在大都市的霓虹閃爍里，如一顆無依無靠的孤魂，四處飄散，淚眼倚樓頻獨語，抑或因為爭取那觸手不可及的幸福，抑或因為一月清輝的紅塵舊夢，抑或因為風往沉香幽夢已逝的無奈，抑或因為剪破煙花后的人去樓空。那份最初的笑容，最初的單純，如一紙未了的夙愿沉淀在夢的憂傷里。
Wandering in the metropolis of the flashing neon lights, like a helpless souls, floating around, with teary eyes I monologue, or for the tentacle may not and happiness, or because the January shining red dreams, or because the wind to aloes dream is helpless, or because the cut after the deserted fireworks. The first smile, first simple, such as a piece of unfinished dream long-cherished wish of the precipitation in blue.
那等待放學后游戲的童年，仿佛是用來懷念的，長大后的我們也總是碎碎念念，越來越懷念那些碎花般的舊時光，掃黛窗前月，惆悵如春草一樣，密密層層，條條狀狀，從未減少，也不失約。
Wait for after school the childhood game, as if to miss, growing up we always pieces of pronouncing, more and miss the old days those flowers like Dai, scan window, such as the spring grass as melancholy, packed closely layer upon layer, strip shape, never the less, do not miss.