桥,这世间最美丽的“彩虹”,在唐人的诗里,宋人的词里,元人的曲里,明清人的小说里,不知出现过几多回。千古名桥一座座在脑海中闪过,而我却选择了这座普通的桥:假如我是桥,我便作这座姑苏城外的枫桥———在“我”的身下,横着一叶小舟,在旷古寒彻的霜天里,张继半倚着桅杆,独对冷 Bridge, the world’s most beautiful “rainbow”, in the Tang poem, the words of the Song Dynasty, the song of the Yuan Dynasty, Ming and Qing novels, I do not know how many times back. The ancient name of a bridge flashed through my mind, and I chose this ordinary bridge: If I was a bridge, I will be the city of Gusu Fengqiao --- “I” under the body, Across a leaf boat, frost in the ancient cold winter days, Zhang Ji leaning on the mast half-cold