伞太小，雨太大。“撑几把？”你问。“两把吧。”我说。于是，雨的世界里产起了两条水花。雨声嘀嗒，心跳嘀嗒。那雨声就象无数只手指，按在了岁月的琴键上……那年，你坯在大学念节。我第一次去学校看你，不是也下着这样的雨吗？不，那时的雨很细，很小，我的伞却很大，很大 The umbrella is too small, the rain is too big. “How many strokes?” You ask. “Two,” I said. Thus, the world of rain produced two water. Rain ticks, heart ticks. That rain sounds like countless fingers, according to the keys on the years ... ... that year, you blank in the University Festival. The first time I went to school to see you, is it not under such rain? No, when the rain was very thin and small, my umbrella was big and big