一弯桥的冰凉火车马不停蹄地前行,在湖南一弯桥前眨了一下眼睛。一座荒废了的石桥,长满了幽幽的野草。有江南风味的桥体,被冷落得有些冷清。我仿佛看到一个撑着油纸伞的女子,穿一身旗袍在雨中,徘徊在石桥上翘首以望,等一个或来或不来的人。油纸伞等得心碎了,旗袍等得单薄又消瘦了,女子等得躺进一!黄土里,还是没有等到那个归人。只剩那貌似无情的石桥,依旧在原地伫立着,苍老了岁月,苍白了感情。 A curved bridge of the cold train non-stop forward, in front of a curved bridge in Hunan blinked his eyes. A deserted stone bridge, covered with faint weeds. Jiangnan flavor of the bridge, was left some deserted. I seem to see a woman holding an oilpaper umbrella, wearing a cheongsam in the rain, hovering on the stone bridge on the lookout, waiting for a coming or not coming. Paper umbrella and so heartbroken, cheongsam so thin and thin, the woman had to lie in a loess, or did not wait until the return. Only seemingly heartless stone bridge, still standing in place, old age, pale feelings.