合上手中那本青绿色封面的书,倚着正在飞速行驶的汽车上的座椅,注视着窗外流淌过的一帧帧画面,我的眼角却蓦地泛起泪光。封面上的“目送”二字,用温柔的指尖触动了我的心。龙应台的这本书,如一杯香茗,淡淡的苦涩,淡淡的香醇,平淡之中却流露出深沉幽婉的芬芳。她用细腻而不失深邃的笔触,写尽亲人的离逝、友人的牵挂、生活中幽微之物,七十三篇散文,每 Closing the blue-green cover book in my hand, leaning against the seat on a fast-moving car and looking at a frame flowing through the window, my eyes burst into tears. Cover on the “head to send ” word, with a gentle fingertips touched my heart. Lung Ying-tai's book, such as a cup of tea, a touch of bitter, a touch of mellow, but showing a deep dull gentle fragrance. With delicate and deep brushstrokes, she writes about the death of her loved one, the care of her friends, the invisibility of her life, seventy-three essays