她睡在那座城里,不分朝昏,墨黛的色彩,安静地看着这城中的每一场雨。来后海,你要在白天来,因为她古朴、冷清、带着一点点的肃穆,那些朱漆的高门紧闭,隔着的或许是一个世纪。外面的喧嚣与她不相干,故宫里的导游器与她不相干,北京城里的车马喧 She slept in that city, looking at all the rain in this city quietly, in the colors of dusk and mode. Come back to the sea, you have to come during the day, because she is simple, deserted, with a little solemn, those high lacquer door closed, perhaps separated by a century. Noisy with the outside of her irrelevant, the guide in the Forbidden City and her irrelevant, the car noise in Beijing