“自在飞花轻似梦,无边丝雨细如愁。”悠长的小巷里暗淡了阳光,凋谢了丁香。我撑着一伞清雾,疾行在没有阳光的小巷,疾行在一段隐没了阳光的青春里。雨“滴答滴答”地落下,落在手中的卷子上,将一笔笔猩红的大叉晕染成一朵朵张牙舞爪的血红。我轻轻地抬起头,发现老天还睁着一双忧郁的眼,风的哀叹从耳边掠过。多久了?多久没见过阳光的踪影了? “Feel free to fly like a dream, endless silk as thin as worry. ” Long alley bleak sunlight, withered cloves. I hold an umbrella Qing fog, walk in the alley without sunlight, walk in a period of hidden in the sunshine of youth. Rain “Ticking ” to fall, fell on the hands of the paper, will be a handful of scarlet grandiose dyed blood of claws claws blood red. I gently looked up and found God also open a pair of melancholy eyes, wind lament passing ear. How long have not seen the sun’s trace?