我静静地坐在那里,听着山庄里一地的玉兰树落叶被风旋起,又刮走的声音,看着面前园子里的瓜架枯萎落败的模样,原本内心积蓄的些微锐气与凌厉早已消散殆尽,此刻,秋意是深浓的,孤独也是深浓的。自我的知觉陡然降到零度,一切犹如岁月埋没一颗沙粒那样,悄无声息,且谙熟老道,真正的荒芜看不见。近来,愈发沉郁了,除了枯坐,就是读书。在书籍的默片里,我渴望遇见一份五彩的光亮。哪怕是让我泫然涕下的那种,也愿意。对于我这样一个 I sat quietly, listening to the magnolia trees in the mountains where the leaves were the wind whirling, and scrape the sound, watching the melon frame in front of the garden withered and decadent appearance, the original savings of a little inner strength and Sharp already dissipated, at the moment, autumn is deep, lonely is deep. Self perception suddenly dropped to zero, as if buried in a sand like years, quietly, and versed in the road, the real barren can not see. Recently, the more depressed, in addition to sitting, is reading. In the silent book of the book, I long to meet a colorful light. Even if it is the kind that I suddenly Ran tears, but also willing. For me, one