墙上挂着波提切利的画。烛光很暗,地毯上的图案很模糊。年轻人眼帘低垂,和白色琴键一样苍白修长的手指在琴键上奔跑。琴声和烛光一起摇曳,如幽兰之香,渗透黑暗,弥漫到很远的地方。夜归的男女嬉闹着上楼来,脚步声越来越近。风快要吹灭了烛光,他停了下来,看看月光,叹口气。 Botticelli’s paintings hung on the wall. The candlelight is dark and the pattern on the carpet is blurred. The young man’s eyelids drooped, and the pale, slender fingers ran on the keys like white keys. The swaying sound of the piano and the candlelight, like the fragrance of orchids, permeates the darkness and permeates far away. Nightly men and women froliced ​​upstairs and their footsteps approached. The wind was about to blow out the candlelight. He stopped and looked at the moonlight and sighed.