诗　　《彼岸挥手的孩子》灼烫了我 ,这灼烫似乎来自心的深海里。人生怎么会有这么多的辗压、挣扎、呻吟和奋争 ?一个人怎么会如此撕开自己淌血的胸膛完成一个面对世界的如此灿烂的微笑 ?……窗外下着淅淅沥沥的雨 ,我对自已说 ,不能这样读诗歌 ,尤其不能这样读完这本诗集 ;坦? The poem “Waving the Other Side of the Hand” burned me, it seems hot from the depths of the heart. How can life have so much rolling, struggling, moaning and struggling? How could a man rip one’s bloodied chest to such a splendid smile in the face of the world? ... There was a lingering rain under the window, and I To myself, you can not read poetry like this, especially if you can not finish reading this poetry like this;