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它急促地鸣叫,像黑夜擦出的一点火星。夜,使纷繁的心绪平复了,我留意到屋角的蟋蟀时暗暗惊喜,如同邂逅一位故人。呼啸过原野的列车鸣笛隐隐传来,拖着悠长的老调子,好似音符穿过绵亘的龙门山,在永恒的天幕外盘旋。这初秋静谧的夜,长笛与虫语多么巧妙地撞击,重叠,周游的风偶尔也解说着什么,引人入胜,仿佛生命的咏叹调。带蟋蟀回家的儿子,已被甜稠的睡眠拥抱。而我睡意全消,心潮起伏,临窗而眺。园子里新挖出的土,白天在锨头下乌亮亮
It tweets like a little spark of the night. Night, so that the numerous emotions calm down, I noticed the dark corner of the cricket surprise, as an encounter an enemy. Whistling over the wilderness train whistle faintly came, dragging a long old tune, like music through the stretches of Dragon Mountain, hovering outside the eternal sky. This quiet autumn night, flute and insects how cleverly crashed, overlapping, traveling wind occasionally also explain what fascinating, as if life aria. The son who brought crickets home has been embraced by a sweet, thick sleep. And I sleep all disappeared, ups and downs, facing the window overlooking. New digging in the garden of soil, under the head of Wu Liang Liang during the day