天是灰蒙蒙的,空气也微微湿润。林荫道上,有坦荡走着的学生;也有撑着伞,遮着若有若无的雨的学生。在伞与各个身影的交错之间,我又看到了一个熟悉的背影,做着熟悉的动作,娴熟地扶起因不小心“过界”而被践踏的枝条。我认识他,但我如同他身旁或冷眼旁观,或视之若无物的陌生人一般,只当他是一旁可有可无的风景,并不在意。只是心里再次送他一个大家送过他许多次的字——傻。为什么说是许多人呢?因为每当有人说他傻时,他都只是憨憨一笑,从不争 The sky is gray and the air is slightly wet. On the avenue, there is a magnanimous student; there are umbrellas, cover if there is no rain of students. Between the parachutes and the various figures, I saw a familiar back, a familiar movement, skillfully holding up the branches that were trampled by “carelessness.” I know him, but I do not care if he is beside him or sitting idly by his side or as if he is a stranger. Just send him the heart again, a word we sent him many times - silly. Why is it because many people? Because whenever anyone says he was stupid, he is just a foolish smile, never fight