今夜好静,没有一丝儿风,如水的月光,柔柔的,透过玻璃窗,撒满你的房间,白花花的。你又点燃了那盏美丽的红灯笼,轻轻地挂在床上,房间里顿时亮起红红的光,如一团火,暖暖的。你倚坐在床上,瞅着红灯笼,两行清泪溢出眼眶,挂上腮边。思绪又飘向记忆的深处。是啊!你怎能忘记,当开山炮响,筑路机走过,黑黑的柏油路如带般飘挂在山腰的时候,世代居住在大山里的人们是怎样的高兴,怎样的激动啊。他们说不出话,只握了筑路工的手一个劲地摇,泪水在脸上一个劲地淌。从此,大山里的人们不再觉得外边的世界多遥 Tonight, quiet, no trace of the wind, such as the water’s moonlight, soft, through the windows, sprinkle your room, pale. You lit the beautiful red lantern again and gently hung on the bed. The room suddenly lit red lights, such as a fire and warmth. You lean on the bed, looking at the red lanterns, two rows of clear tears overflowing eyes, hanging cheeks. Thoughts drifting to the depths of memory. Yeah, how can you forget that people who lived in the mountains for generations have been so excited when the mountains came and the road-machines passed and black and black paved roads hung on the mountainside? . They can not speak, only shake the hands of the road building workers shaking, tears dripping on his face. Since then, people in the mountains no longer feel that the outside world is far away