今夜,雪花飞舞,我持枪站在雪中的哨位上。我是在看完了远方的来信后,走上这没有霓红和音乐的哨位的。屹立在雪花飞舞的哨位上,望着远处一对年轻的恋人,我忽然想到了远在千里的辉。辉说,思念是一坛陈年的老酒,时间愈久,愈是显得它的纯香。辉还说,爱是一捧不息的炉火,它会在每一个寒冷的夜里,烘烤你不倦的乡愁。辉说,我爱你,不单单是因为你是一名军人,还因为在你的背后,有着千万双炽热的目光,你的肩头上扛着万家灯火。今夜,雪花飞舞。站在飞舞着雪花的哨位上,咀嚼着辉的来 Tonight, the snow fluttered and I stood with the gun on the snow post. After reading the letter from afar, I took this no neon and music guard post. Stand in the snow flying whistle, looking at a young couple in the distance, I suddenly thought of Hui in the distance. Hui said, miss is an altar of old wine, the longer the more, the more it seems pure. Hui also said that love is an endless stream of fire, it will be in every cold night, baking your tireless nostalgia. Hui said that I love you not only because you are a soldier but also because there are tens of thousands of pairs of hot eyes behind you and thousands of lights on your shoulders. Tonight, snowflakes fly. Stand in the snow-waving whistle, chewing Hui