怎么说起呢,这个面色黝黑,身材结实的中年男人,侧身坐在沙发上,确切地说,是他的下半身蹭着沙发的边沿,左手不自觉地在他身旁的茶几上来回摩擦,好像是,他要把茶几上某一块污垢搽干净似的,他探着身子对着我们这些去采访他的作家。面对我们的询问,他的声音小得几乎听不清楚。坐在他身旁的省作协王主席笑着对他说,西路,你别紧张,大点声说,想说什么就说什么。杨西路咳了一声,才提高了些声音。不过还是能听出来,杨西路的声音打着颤儿,时断时续的,像是被风刮断的。我能看出来,面对我们,他不仅仅是出于尊敬,更多的是发自内心 How to talk about it, this dark-skinned, sturdy middle-aged man, sitting sideways on the sofa, to be exact, is his lower body rubbing the edge of the sofa, left hand unconsciously rubbing back and forth next to his coffee table, Seems like he wanted to clean a piece of dirt on the coffee table, and he stared at us and interviewed some of his writers. In the face of our inquiry, his voice was too small to be heard. Wang, sitting next to him, made a smile to him and said to him: "Do not be nervous on the west road, say a little loudly, and say anything when you want to say something. Yang West cough, only to improve some sound. But still able to hear it, Yang West Road, the sound of chattering, intermittent, like the wind off. I can see that in the face of us, he is not only out of respect, but more from the heart