触及书的温度,是冷的。而流淌在书中的灵魂,则是热的。每每手指触及一本书,指尖总会感受到封皮的硬度,在缄默的时间中留下了几分冰冷的气息。老书尤是如此。在黯然中渐趋黄色调的封面,以及与封面共生共存、游离着文字的书页,都散发出低沉的冰冷气息。它们如同久久游弋于时间之洋的泳者,亦如在极北之地深居的爱斯基摩老人,只残存下了字里行间 Touch the temperature of the book is cold. The soul flowing in the book is hot. Each time a finger touches a book, the fingertips always feel the hardness of the cover, leaving a bit cold in the silence. This is especially true of old books. In the gloom gradually yellow tone of the cover, and co-exist with the cover, leaving the text of the page, are exudes a cold and cold atmosphere. They are like Swimmers who have long cruised to the ocean of time, and also to Eskimo old people who lived in the extreme north, leaving only the lines