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我们不是河流,我们走过的路才是。然而它并不跟随我们,而是流向我们每一次出发或者停留的地方。我们在梦里与河流重逢,在回忆里回到过去,回到每一朵溅湿青春衣襟的细小浪花。我们在每一艘小船、每一个码头、每一个晨昏刻下“流年似水”的歌谣。“我们都在追赶时光的脚步,却来不及享受青春年华的绚丽多姿,在匆忙的人群中擦肩而过,追忆似水流年。”把这段节目片花写在前面,借此来缅怀我们的《似水流年》。似水流年一直是一个美丽的词汇,大家可能首先想到的是法国作家普鲁斯特的长篇巨著《追忆似水流年》,但我想追忆的仅是我高中时光最喜欢的广播栏目《似水流年》——这是通过电波传播的一个
We are not rivers, we are the way to go. However, it does not follow us, but instead flows to wherever we depart or stop. We reunited with the rivers in our dreams, returned to our memory, and returned to every tiny spray of wet lapel. We are in every boat, every pier, every morning dusk carved “songs”. “We are chasing the footsteps of time, but too late to enjoy the colorful youthful, pass in a hurry of the crowd, memories of a fleeting year.” “The show piece of flowers written in front of, to cherish the memory Our ”like years.“ Like a long stream has always been a beautiful vocabulary, we may first think of the French writer Proust’s long masterpiece ”Recalling fleeting“, but I want to recall only my favorite high school broadcast section ”like water Fleeting "- this is one that spreads by radio waves