风，拂过我的脸颊，这风是从北边吹来的，它带来草原对我的呼唤。

A gust of wind from the north is touching my cheeks, as if an intimate greeting to me from the prairie.

youdao

父亲笑着看着我，粗糙却又带有温情的手拂过我的脸颊：“傻孩子，不要哭了。”

Father laughs at me, but with a loving hand rough blew my cheek: "silly child, Do not cry."

youdao

父亲笑着看着我，粗糙却又带有温情的手拂过我的脸颊：“傻孩子，不要哭了。”

Father laughs at me, but with a loving hand rough blew my cheek: "silly child, Do not cry."

youdao