01罗马街头,听风。一把传统的油纸伞,被吹翻。伞骨,仿佛十指,撑开天空。雨,不遮雨;晴,不遮阳。异样的风,让思绪绕罗马大圆柱拐了一个弧形的弯,不知是雨了,还是晴了。当米开朗基罗让大卫站在冬的寒冷中,萌动的春情,便衣不遮体的随风流浪。赤裸的不是大卫,是风。 01 Rome street, listen to the wind. A traditional paper umbrella, was blown. Umbrella bone, as if fingers, open the sky. Rain, no rain; Clear, no shade. The same kind of wind, so thinking about a large roundabout Rome curved an arc, I do not know the rain, or sunny. When Michelangelo so that David stood in the cold winter, sprouting of spring, plainclothes do not cover the wind stray. Naked is not David, is the wind.