濛濛斜雨,走在乌檐墨瓦的深深小巷里。耳畔隐隐传来哪家孩子香香软软的童音:“小燕子,穿花衣……”熟悉的童谣像清冽的雨水,润湿了记忆的田壤,嘴角不由浮出一丝笑意,为那年年岁岁在心灵里酿过的呢喃香……从不曾忘记过,很小的时候,就喜欢住在外婆家,就喜欢在燕子黑色的舞动里细数似水流年。尽管那时燕子已不是随处可见,但幸运的是,外婆家门口屋檐下的小灯泡上就住着几只小燕 Rain Meng Meng, walking in the deep Wuyi Mo tile alley. Silently came the ears of children which children fragrant soft Tongyin: “Little Swallow, wearing a flower dress ... ” familiar nursery rhyme like clear water, moistened the memory of the field, mouth could not help but a smile , For the year-old in the soul of the stuffed incense ... ... Never forget, a very young age, like to live in her grandmother, like dancing swallows in the details of countless years. Although the swallows were no longer visible everywhere, it was fortunate that a few small swallows were held on the small light bulbs under the eaves of the grandmother’s door