我老了。有多老,我不告诉你,不过可以想象一下,傍晚,在落日的余晖中,我喜欢拄根拐杖,坐在人民广场的格栅椅上,看着孩子们疯跑着玩儿。他们多幸福啊!我不是说他们吃得饱、穿得好,我不是说这个,我是说年龄。我跑不动了,只能看着他们跑,羡慕他们的跑,这就是老年人的悲哀。这天,我看到一个小孩,也不过八九岁吧,骑着个女式踏板电动车,在广场上嗖嗖地旋来转去。他后面跟着个小女孩,两三岁的样子,蹒跚着跑。她显然 I’m old. How old I do not tell you, but imagine that in the evening, in the twilight of the setting sun, I like to crutches and sit on the grille chairs in the People’s Square and watch the children go crazy. How happy they are! I am not saying that they are full and well dressed. I am not saying this. I mean age. I can not run, can only watch them run, envy their run, this is the sadness of the elderly. This day, I saw a child, but also eight or nine years old, riding a pedal electric car, swirling in the square spin. Followed by a little girl behind him, two or three years old, hobbled. She obviously