我去过两次剑门关。一次是冬日的黄昏，隔着风尘和寒岚，暮色中绵亘的山体像影于一样，不停地在飘摇，也像不停地在生长。今天，在我的记忆里，还回响着它们的岩骨因为拔节而发出的嘎嘎之声。 另一次是多年之后的春天，阳光如雨水般洒遍了剑门七十二峰，从一座山头，可以清晰地 I’ve been to Jianmen Gate twice. Once in the winter dusk, across the dust and cold Lan, twilight in the mountain like shadow in the same, kept swaying, but also like constantly growing. Today, in my memory, they echo the rattling of their rock because of their joints. Another is the spring after many years, the sun shines on the seventy-two peaks of Jianmen, from a hill, you can clearly