她直视着我,却好似目中无人。一位仿佛是从油画上走下来的老人,正转动着身边的转经筒,对着塔外的我走过来。一双久经风霜的眼睛是会说话的。我像被施了定身法术,一动不能动,看她从黑暗的经堂中间走到门口。我犹疑了一下,慌乱地抬手拍照。她没有鼓励或者反对的表情。她把我的镜头看作太阳光中的一个黑点子?一种心虚的感觉使我收回了眼光。 She looks straight at me, but looks as if nobody is there. An old man who seemed to have walked down from the canvas was turning his side of the prayer wheel and came to me outside the tower. A pair of weathered eyes can speak. I was cast like a spell, unable to move, watching her walk from the dark hall to the door. I hesitated a moment, panic to raise his hand to take pictures. She has no expression of encouragement or opposition. She sees my camera as a dark spot in the sun? A guilty sensation has taken my eyes back.