我家的楼后,就是外孙女上学的学校。清晨,左邻右舍的孩子们,快快乐乐地奔向这所市重点小学,一个个像清晨乍现的露珠,在薄雾中闪亮。十几分钟前还空空荡荡的真武庙头条胡同,瞬间变得五颜六色起来。孩子们的书包里发出清脆的撞击声,运动鞋松松垮垮地系着,嘴上还留有牛奶的残渍。现在是7点半,一天的校园生活开始了。我凝神静听那片动人的喧嚣。 The floor of my house is the school where grandchildren go to school. In the early morning, the children of neighbors ran happily to the city’s key primary schools, dewdrops that appeared early in the morning and shone in the mist. Ten minutes before the empty Zhenwu Temple headlines alley, instantly become colorful. The children’s bags issued crisp percussion sound, sneakers loosely tied to the mouth still left with milk stains. It is 7:30, one day of school life begins. I am quietly listening to that moving noise.