我停下笔,回想这一路十年,仿佛从春露走到秋白,从人海走到小水边,从喧嚣走到清喜,也从一份心意里走到另一份心意里。因为知道,我路过的每一块石,每一朵云,每一片月色,每一个深夜从我窗前一闪而过的车灯,都是来赴我的清风约。也相信,至少有十年,至少有十首歌,在路过彼此之后,仍能清唱流年,情分相持。我会特意在一个安静的时间里,在一个个名字上流连,会莫名闯入 I stopped pen, think of this way for ten years, as if coming from the Spring Lu Yu autumn and white, walked from the sea to the small waterside, from the noisy to the Qingxi, but also from one mind to another mind. Because I know, every passing stone, every cloud, every moonlight, every night from the flash of light in front of my window, all come to my breeze about. I also believe that at least ten years, at least ten songs, after passing each other, can still sing their lives and sectarian relations. I will deliberately in a quiet time, linger in a name, will inexplicably break into