夜,静极了。一弯朦胧的月亮正从蝉翼般透明的云里钻出来,闪着银色的清辉,洒满静谧的小路,汇成一条小河。星星映在河中,泛着点点波光。小路上,一位老人躬着身子,用手轻轻拍打着背上的孩子。童年的我总爱倚在外婆的背上,沐浴着月光,数着天上的星星。那时,我问外婆:“月亮在睡觉吗?”“是呀,我们得走得轻轻地,别吓着她。”“那星星会陪伴她吗?”童稚的声音再次响起。“会呀,星星是月亮的梦,她总是一个人转呀转,需要一个繁星满天的梦来陪伴她。”外婆的声音软软的,甜甜的,我也渐渐睡去。当我醒来,总是会看着外婆捧着一碗白糖水,笑吟吟地看着 Night, static very. A misty moon is drilling out of the cloud of cicada wings, flashing silvery clear, sprinkled with quiet paths and merged into a small river. Stars reflected in the river, glowing a little bit of light. On the trail, an old man bowed and gently patted the child on his back. Childhood, I always lean on my grandmother’s back, bathed in moonlight, counting the stars in the sky. At that time, I asked my grandmother, “Is the moon sleeping?” “Yes, we have to go gently so do not scare her.” “Will the stars accompany her?” “Childish The sound sounded again. ”Yes, the stars are the dreams of the moon. She always turns around alone and needs a starry sky to accompany her.“ ”My grandmother’s voice is soft and sweet, and I am getting sleepy. When I woke up, I was always looking at Grandma holding a bowl of sugar water, smiling and looking