适夜,有风吹过窄窄的河床。石板桥,于清辉里静卧一滩孤寂。人畜散尽,黄昏的影子跌进水里,溅起一点点银色的水珠,是花、是雾、是烟、是霜在四月潮湿的空气里流转。月影朦胧,暗香浮动,微风里,有新翻泥土的气息夹杂淡淡的花香涉水而来。竹篙、扁舟沉睡在历史的掌纹里,满地的鹅卵石睁大空洞的眼睛,找寻一度朝夕相处的舵手。时间在一点点燃烧,沙石在一寸寸溃散。天地间,只有亘古的月光在斑驳的夜色下流淌。沙滩依旧,流水依旧,小桥依旧,透过干涸的河床,我看见老 Suitable night, the wind blew the narrow riverbed. Itabashi, in a clear lying in a beach solitude. People and livestock ran out, the shadow of the evening fell into the water, splashed a little silver drops of water, is the flower, the fog, the smoke, is the frost in April damp air circulation. Shadow on the moon, subtle fragrance floating, the breeze, there is a new atmosphere of mixed soil mixed with a touch of floral wading. Penny, boat slept in the palm of the hand in history, pebbles all over the ground open empty eyes, looking for the helmsman to work together once in a while. A little bit of burning time, sand and gravel collapse in an inch. Between heaven and earth, only the ancient moonlight in mottled night flowing. Still the beach, running water still, small bridge still, through the dry riverbed, I saw the old