沿着每天必经的林阴小道,拾级而上。一些薄雾低沉地缠绕在山涧的树梢之上,像山里农家房屋上升起的阵阵炊烟。这样的清晨,我已感觉到了逐日天气的渐凉,在鞋与裤腿之间的空白处,已有些抵不住那不断袭来的丝丝凉意。在石级上,我看到了几只蝉的尸体,其中一两只还在微微地挣扎。我知道了早上鸣叫的那只蝉的忧伤,它是在为自己即将逝去的生命作最后的晚唱。 Along the path through the forest every day, up the stairs. Some of the mist lowly wrapped around the treetops of the mountain stream, rising like bursts of smoke from the mountain farm houses. This morning, I have felt the getting cold day by day, in the blank space between the shoes and the trouser legs, there has been some can not withstand the constant hit slightest coolness. At the stone level, I saw the bodies of several cicadas, one or two of them still slightly struggling. I know the sadness of the morning cicada, the last of the cries for the life that is about to pass away.