常常独自坐在窗前,看着一行整齐的大雁急急地往南飞,扔下一两声凄厉的鸣叫,然后在浩瀚的天空里,渐飞渐远,最终被一朵朵游来荡去的白云遮住了;或者是消失在缈远的天际,那越飞越小的黑点慢慢地消失了。可是自己仍被那黑点似的背影牵着,一颗敏感的心在天马行空,随着那背影一点一点地飘远。心跟着鸟儿飞越那茫茫的天际,想象前方会不会是阳光明媚、花儿灿烂的春天。那缕缕春风阵阵馨香,游人如织,到处是欢声笑语。哪像自 Often sitting alone in front of the window, watching the neat geese rush to the south fly, throwing a croak or two tweeted, and then in the vast sky, farther and farther, eventually being blossoming swim to go Of the white clouds cover; or disappear in the distant sky, that more and more small black spots slowly disappear. But he is still holding the dark back like that, a sensitive heart in an abstract, with that back drift little by little. Followed by the heart of birds flying over the vast sky, imagine the front will be sunny, bright spring flowers. That plume of spring breeze fragrance, visitors, such as weaving, laughter is everywhere. Which is like self?