树木高过屋顶,隐士的宅院露出半堵围墙云影在草坪上幻灭一群意象的赛跑者涌向灯塔雅各的房间在闪烁纤指间流贯着母系时代的光源海鸥掠过树梢,市声在落叶的嘈杂中腐烂,自己的房子开始静静思考:咖啡在圆桌的定位从周四之夜一直煮到星期一或星期二布卢姆斯伯里的天空笼罩一片祥云? Trees above the roof, the hermit’s house exposing a half-blocked wall shadow on the lawn disillusionment of a group of runners flock to the lighthouse of Jacob’s room in the twinkling of an eye with maternal era of light source Seagull over the treetops, the city sound Decaying in the noisy leaves, my house begins to ponder over: the positioning of the coffee at the round table until Thursday or Thursday, the sky over Bloomsbury.