诗人的心微颤了。凭着石栏俯瞰,台北的闪烁灯火尽入眼帘。但他的心潮澎湃,却不是为那美丽的夜景,而是为此刻就在身旁的伊人。思绪飘飘荡荡,心不在焉。当丹萍的一声低呼轻轻传来,漾在他心湖时,侧过脸去只见她的笑容那么纯真,却怎么也抓不住她的语意。他的眼睛打了个问号。丹萍举手理了一下山风扬起的长发,“我说呀,这夜景美不美?” The poet’s heart trembled. With Shek Pik overlooking, Taipei twinkling lights come into view. But his surging mood, but not for the beautiful night, but for the moment in Iraqi people. Fluttering thoughts, absent-minded. When Danping gently shouted, Yang in his heart lake, sideways to see her smile so innocent, but how could not catch her semantics. He asked a question mark in his eyes. Danping raised his hand looked up the long hair raised by the wind, “I said ah, this night beauty is not beautiful? ”