太阳青涩地躲下山前,最后一丝余晖钻进了我的视线,我想起了你,你是夏日清晨里的扑鼻芬芳;你是天寒地冻时的熊熊篝火;你是茫茫黑夜中的一盏明灯;是你,是我很爱很爱的你。不老的时光你抓着我的小手,在阳光下笑得像盛夏的果实,甜遍了整个季节,那年你4岁、我2岁。泛黄的老照片的边角已在时光蹉跎下磨损,而照片仍然是如今我们头顶的同一片天空。暖黄的缕缕阳光渗透进你的笑容,你头上的小鸟或许来年又会盘旋在我的发梢,路旁含苞待放的花蕾像我们 Anger green hiding in front of the mountain, the last glimmer of insight into my sight, I am reminded of you, you are fragrant in the summer morning; you are cold when the bonfire; you are in the dark in the night A beacon; is you, I love you very much. Not old time you clutching my little hand, smiling in the sunshine as summer fruit, sweet throughout the season, that year you are 4 years old, I am 2 years old. The yellowed corners of the old photos have worn down in time, and the pictures are still the same sky we now have overhead. Warm yellow plumes of sunlight penetrate into your smile, your head may be hovering in my hair again in the coming year, budding roadside buds like us