十月,钟声很近,枫叶割伤日子,寂寞在这样的季节长高。而我依水而生,成为世上遗忘的风景。夜色凉了,我安静地劈开月亮,生火,取暖,试图温暖我骨子里的忧伤。青春从我的指尖滑过,在我触摸年少的伤痕时,风正吹过,吹散的,唯有稀薄却又苍劲的感动,落花和流水在我的白衣间萦绕出一圈无名的年轮。 October, bells are close, Maple Leaf cut days, loneliness in such a season. And I was born by the water, as the world’s forgotten scenery. Night cool, I quietly split the moon, fire, heating, trying to warm the sadness in my bones. When youth touches my young man’s scar, the wind blows, blows away, only the thin but vigorous move, the falling flowers, and the flowing water linger in my ankles for the unknown wheel.