那是一个初秋的午后,云样淡风样清的笛声融化在微凉的空气中。起初我并没有觉出那乐音的存在,直到偶一抬头望见窗外那个执著的人影,才恍然觉出这笛声竟已悬浮了许久。卖笛人的摊前冷冷清清,偶有路人也极少驻足。我忽然就有些怅惘。我们曾经是善于倾听的,但当我们从母亲黑 It was a noon of early autumn, and the flute with clear winds was melting in the cool air. At first I didn’t realize the existence of that tone until I even looked up at the persistent figure outside the window, only to realize that the flute had been suspended for a long time. In front of the booth for the flute dealers, there were occasional passers-by to stop. I suddenly feel awkward. We used to be good at listening, but when we were black from the mother