历史在时间的洪流里呜咽出浪花的苍白,满是罅隙的河岸上,散落石子的近处,一座被虫蛀了的抱厦房子独自静默地站着,似乎在等待着什么。远山与白云错落的地方,主人从那里合上了泛黄的书卷,款款归来,直到他撩起曲裾深衣的袍子从彩绘的木板墙裙间走过。然后,夜色就从天的那头垂下来浣洗后的黑帐,一灯长明,掩映了许多许多在 History sobbed in the torrent of time the wandering waves, the crevasse bank, the scattered rocks nearby, a moth-eared house of Bahaxia standing alone silently, as if waiting for something. Mountains and clouds scattered where the owner closed the yellowed scroll from there, until he lifted the tunic and walked past the painted wooden dado. Then, from the other end of the night, the black book hanging down from the sky was washed out and covered with many lights