说起灯,我自然地想起祖母的煤油灯,一种古典意蕴在静夜里轻轻缭绕,有如灯光摇曳。逼仄的房间、楠木的眠床、倚侧的桌子、精巧的油灯,一切景象那么熟悉,似乎还在眼前。那盏煤油灯,时时在我童年记忆里燃亮:乳白色的瓷瓶有如女人体,精致优雅。小小灯座嵌在瓶口,好像一顶皇冠。多么优 Speaking of lights, I naturally think of my grandmother’s kerosene lamp, a classical meaning gently wind around in the quiet night, as the lights swaying. Cramped room, Phoebe sleep bed, leaning side of the table, delicate lamp, so familiar with all the scenes, it seems still in sight. That kerosene lamp, from time to time in my childhood memory lit: milky white porcelain body like a woman, refined and elegant. Small lamp holder embedded in the bottle, like a crown. How excellent