缓慢沉淀下来的暮色,华灯初上,更衬托着天空的烟灰色。光线逐渐失却的时候,真实又陈旧的景物,像是突然变得苍老,又是悲伤又是沉默。放在窗台上的字典,向外的那一边褪色了,厚重的侧面,从上到下,有了浅红到深红的渐变。上一季的风和雨水,过去了也就忘记了,可总有什么替我记着它们,无声地诉说反反复复的潮湿。就好像,那些我早已忘却的旧事,被人提起,说与我听,犹如重现,清晰如昨。 Slowly settling down the twilight, the Chinese lantern, but also set off the sky's smoke gray. As the light fades, real and old scenery, like suddenly becoming old, sad and silent. On the windowsill dictionary, the outward side faded, thick side, from top to bottom, with a light red to dark red gradient. The last season of wind and rain, the past will forget, but there is always something for me to remember them, silent to tell the repeated wet. It's like those old things that I have long forgotten were brought up and said to me, as if to reproduce, as clearly as yesterday.