坐在榕园那棵长满了根的榕树下,我独自一个人看着山,看着夜,看着那颗星。白天郁郁葱葱的群山,现在却完全黑了。风吹来,见不到了白天那荡漾开来的绿色波纹,但却能听到树枝摇曳的声音,这声音让夜更静了。夜是黑纱,轻灵地飘逸在山的上面,山像是黑纸贴在了黑纱上,永远让人看不透。这样的山和夜,寂寞地让我感到分外美好。山上永远只挂着一颗星,它太亮了,谁也不敢聚到它的身边。在这样的一个空旷的地方,原该是群星闪烁的。嗯,是这样的,这颗星的对面,我的头顶上,星星一群又一群亲密地挤在一起。我背对着它们,只看这一颗星。我躲在那棵大榕树垂下的万条须之后,就像 Sitting under the elms filled with roots in the Gin Garden, I looked at the mountain alone, watching the night and watching the star. The lush mountains of the day are now completely dark. When the wind blows, it does not see the ripples of green that rippling in the daytime, but can hear the swaying sound of the branches. This sound makes the night quieter. The night is dark and elegantly floating on the top of the mountain. The mountain is like a black paper stuck to the black yarn. It will never be seen through. This kind of mountain and night made me feel exceptionally lonely. There is only one star on the mountain. It is too bright. No one dares to get to it. In such an open place, it was supposed to be twinkling stars. Well, it’s like this, opposite the star, on top of my head, a bunch of stars and crowds huddled together intimately. I back to them, just look at this star. I was hiding behind the ten thousand whiskers hanging from the big banyan tree, just like