寒泉石径蜿蜒,蜿蜒为一条干枯的白蛇了。两鬓衰草,被拂着土地耳语,又被山风吹散。悬崖深处,枯树枝条掩映的小石屋里,有一老汉面壁而坐着。几十年为一日,他都这样面壁而立。刮光了又长出的白胡须,落地生根了。这时候,他忽从一个悠悠的长梦中醒来。桌子上的空杯里没有水。推门而出的老汉,目光萎缩,如豆。到哪里去汲一筲水呢?十里地外,深山幽谷里,那涧泉的水,定 Hansen stone meandering, meandering for a dry white snake. Two shaggy, was whisk whisper on the ground, but also by the mountain breeze. Deep in the cliffs, withered branches of small stone houses, there is an old man sitting on the wall. For decades, he stood facing each other. Scratched and grown white beard, rooted. At this time, he suddenly woke up from a long long dream. There is no water in the empty glass on the table. The old man out of the door, eyes diminished, such as beans. Where to get a Shaw water it? Ten miles away, the deep valleys, that jianquan water, will