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在普罗旺斯的岁月里,一切都宁静而质朴,人生的轨迹在这里缓慢划过,平淡而清澈,正是命运的味道。人生的种种在这里不息地上演,在字里行间,可以看到生命的演进。如果以声音来形容每一个年龄段,那么童年是清晨或午后聚集在后花园的尤加利树上活泼轻盈的小麻雀的鸣叫;青年是在返璞归真的宁静里,你常捕捉的从远方偶尔传来的一声洪亮鸡鸣;中年是人潮拥挤、水泄不通的火车站里那声声急促刺耳的火车笛鸣;老年呢,老年则是一片与世无争的安闲里的泉水的低诉,一切名利,一切荣辱得失,一切城市喧嚣,随着清泉流远……书的开始,仿佛含着一个小小口琴轻呼慢吹,让一
In the days of Provence, everything is quiet and simple, the path of life slowly across here, plain and clear, it is the taste of destiny. All kinds of life staged endlessly here, between the lines, you can see the evolution of life. If you describe each age by sound, childhood is the tweet of a lively and light sparrow gathering in the garden of the Eucalyptus trees in the early morning or afternoon. The youth are in the quiet, Middle of the crowded crowded, unpredictable train station where the rapid harsh trains whistle; old age, the elderly is an invincible peace spring in the low-lying, all fame and fortune , All the gains and losses of all honor, all the noise in the city, with the Qingyuan far away ... ... book begins, as if with a little harmonica softly whistling, let a