多少个冬夜依偎在外婆的膝上,听着雪花的故事,飘飘然进入另一个国度。那个国度到处充盈着雪的笑声、雪的影子、雪的芳容,屋顶上盖着新翻的棉絮似的积雪。夜夜美梦,但故乡就是少雪,六七年才勉强下一回。雪,我那远方的精灵,你何时才能飘出我的梦乡,落在我的故乡。直到有一天,我照样枕着雪的故事入梦,一觉醒来,睁开眼,外面一片雪光,我揉了揉眼睛,以为还在梦乡,可是我错了。透过落地窗,我看见屋檐上挂满了晶莹的玉棒,太阳也像擦上了厚厚的 How many winter nights nestled in the grandmother’s lap, listening to the story of snowflakes, floating into another country. The country filled with snow laughter, the shadow of snow, the fragrance of snow, the roof covered with a new piece of cotton like snow. Every night a dream, but hometown is less snow, six or seven years before barely back. Snow, my elves from afar, when you can float out of my dreams, fall in my hometown. Until one day, I still sleep in the snow dream story, woke up, opened his eyes, the outside of a snow, I rubbed his eyes, thinking still sleep, but I was wrong. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw the emerald hanging on the crystal jade stick, the sun also rubbed on the thick