有一种静,叫寂静。它不是纷乱的人群中,驻足不前的你,也不是宽大的庭堂里,孤单的你。它是绵延的群山深处,那块爬满绿苔的小石,它是茂密的森林深处,那条淙淙流淌的小溪。你刚刚走近的时候,你会觉得,寂静是一种自里向外的热,一种四处膨胀的燥,一种挥之不去却又不断浸进的烦恼。它就是今天,一无所有、空空荡荡的今天,喧闹、欢笑、痛苦与眼泪,都是昨天,或是前天。在这个时候,确切地说,寂静是一种时间,一种封闭的时间,一种只有一个人一个空间拥 There is a quiet, called silence. It is not a chaotic crowd, stop you, nor is your large court, lonely you. It is a long stretch of mountains, that piece of small stone covered with green moss, it is the dense forest depths, that wandering creek. When you were approached, you would think that silence is a heat from the outside, a bloated dryness, a lingering but constantly torn annoyance. It is today, nothing, empty today, noisy, laughter, pain and tears, are yesterday, or the day before yesterday. At this moment, exactly, silence is a time, a closed time, a space where only one person has a space