桥都会想象远方,把目光和想象,放牧向远方。从岸到岸,从时间到时间。河谷绕来绕去,似一团怎么也绕不完的线,无头无尾。我们截取其中一点。桥,在峡谷,成为一条船,从黎明摆渡到黄昏,又从星星的记忆中,返回现在的阳光之下。峡谷以巨大的漩涡,收集着我们的每一次失败,逝者如斯,站在桥上,谁真正穿越河流的语言,穿越时间,认清古人那张无奈的脸,谁潜入时间的狂流,击浪而歌。桥匍匐着,以母亲的谦卑,将道路背负 Bridge will imagine the distance, the eyes and imagination, grazing far away. From shore to shore, from time to time. Winding around the valley, like a ball of endless lines, endless head and tail. We intercept one of them. Bridge, in the gorge, became a boat, ferry from dawn to dusk, and from the stars’ memories, back to the present sunshine. Gorge with a huge whirlpool, collecting every failure of our lost, so dead, standing on the bridge, who really cross the river language, through time, recognize the helpless face of the ancients, who infatuated with the time of the mad flow, Hit the waves and song. Bridge prostrated with the mother’s humility, the road bear