在最后一场秋雨飘洒为最初一场冬雪的天幕上,有一只浪漫的鸟儿,诗一样地飞翔在它所拥有的绝对空间里。它平缓而舒展地亮着双翅,偶尔也为自己的寂寞飞行尽情歌唱——鹤鸣一般清脆,鹰号一样悠扬。在粉尘一样弥漫的雪域、盆地一样鹤唳的风范中,作着无所谓东南西北的翱翔,用生命最赤诚的力量忘情地旋舞,无我地飞行……它的姿态比雪的轻飏更舒缓,更轻柔,更潇洒——直到精疲力尽,直到全面张开的双翅终于承受不了雪被的重量而下坠……下坠……尽管那不是理想的所在。 In the last autumn snow drifted to the beginning of a winter snow on the sky, there is a romantic bird, poetry flying in the absolute space it has. It flashes gently and stretches brightly and occasionally sings for its own lonely flight - Heming is generally crisp and melodious. In the dust-like diffuse snowfields and valleys of the same basin, it swirled indifferently to the northeast, northwest and northwest, swirling with the most honest power of life, flying without me ... Its attitude is lighter than that of snow Soothing, softer, more chic - Until exhausted, until the fully open wings finally can not afford the weight of the snow and falling ... falling ... although that is not where the ideal.