搬家的时候,老爸每运完一箱衣服,就得在床沿上坐一下,一言不发地歇息。老妈有远视了,细小的东西,她得拿远点,挤着眼看。小扣子,小绳头,都攒着,慢条斯理地装进一个素净的小布袋里。都老了……我叉着腰站在屋中央,悲从中来。青春,终究敌不过生活的。戏要散场,照片要褪色,时间的洪流……怎么回事?我面对着两本一模一样的《简明日本语教程》,水蓝色的封面微微打卷儿,我激动得有些颤巍巍地打开扉页,老爸老妈一粗犷一娟秀的署名 When moving, Dad shipped a box of clothes, you have to sit on the bed along the way, without a word to rest. Mom has hyperopia, small things, she had to take a little further, crowded. Small buttons, small rope, are saved, slowly into a plain bag. Are old ... ... I am standing in the middle of the house fork, sad from. Youth, after all, life can not be hostile. I’m confronted with two identical “Concise Japanese Courses,” with the aqua-blue cover slightly curled up, and I am excited to have some trembling Title page, Mom and Dad a rough show a signature