所有的结局都已写好/所有的泪水也都已启程/却忽然忘了是怎么样的一个开始/在那个古老的不再回来的夏日/无论我如何地去追索/年轻的你只如云影掠过/而你微笑的面容极浅极淡/逐渐隐没在日落后的群岚/遂翻开那发黄的扉页/命运将它装订得极为拙劣/含着泪/我一读再读/却不得不承认/青春/是一本太仓促的书——席慕容爱上一首诗的理由很简单,或许是某一句的触动,或许是某一段场景的再现,又或许是不小心发现了不能说的秘密。 All the finale has been written / All the tears have been set off / Suddenly forgotten what kind of a start / That old summer is no longer back / No matter how I recruit / Young you only Such as the shadow of the clouds passing / and your face is very light and very light / gradually hidden in the sunset after the group Lan / then opened the yellow title page / fate it bound very clumsy / with tears / I read again Reading / Have to admit / youth / is a too hasty book - Xi Murong loves a poem for very simple reason, perhaps a touch of a sentence, perhaps a scene reproduction, or may be careless Found a secret that can not be said.