记忆中的爸爸很小的时候,有一次国庆节晚上,你带我去看彩灯。你把我放在肩上,步子很稳,仿佛永不知疲倦。回家的路上,我趴在你肩上睡着了。醒来已在床上,曙光初露,你在我身旁鼾声如雷。从那时起,我就记住了你宽厚的肩膀。有天夜里地震了,你连同被子一把抱起我,冲出家门。院子里挤满了惊魂未定的人,谁也不敢再进屋。寒风呼啸,在那个兵荒马乱的夜里,我 Memory of the father is very young, there is a National Day night, you take me to see the lantern. You put me on your shoulders, steady pace, as if never tired. On the way home, I fell asleep on your shoulders. Wake up in bed, the dawn of the beginning, you are snoring around mine. Since then, I have remembered your generous shoulders. There was an earthquake in the middle of the night, and you picked me up with the quilt and ran out of the house. The yard is full of people in shock, no one dared to enter the house again. The whistling wind, in that barren turmoil in the night, I am