时常站在窗后,凝视门前的河流。说是河流,未免有点夸张,因为在一年中的多半时分,河床基本是枯涸的,即便如今春,雨声绵延,也只是浅浅的、瘦瘦的一脉。它像极了我。我的内心与思想,虽然有一些流动的东西,但从没有波澜壮阔的豪迈和一泻千里的快意。 Standing behind the window from time to time, staring at the river in front of him. It is a bit of an exaggeration to say that a river is a little exaggerated because in most of the year the riverbed is basically dry up. Even in the spring now, the sound of rain stretches out and it is only a superficial and skinny pulse. It looks like me. My heart and mind, although there are some moving things, but never magnificent heroism and the pleasure of a stream.