我僵硬而冰凉,我是一座桥,我横卧在一道深渊之上。这头扎进泥土的是我的足尖,另一头是我的手,我死死咬住正在碎裂的黏土。我上衣的下摆飘向我的两侧。深渊里冷森森的福雷伦河发出阵阵喧嚣。没有一个旅游者曾迷路来到这座行步艰难的山上,这座桥在各种地图上还未标出——我就这 I am stiff and cold, I am a bridge, I lay on top of an abyss. It was my toes that plunged into the soil, and my hand was on the other end, and I clutched the clay I was cracking. The hem of my coat floated to my sides. In the abyss, the fiery river of Forelead blushes. None of the tourists had ever lost their way to this difficult mountain, a bridge that has not yet been marked on various maps - I will