时间是什么?有时,时间是钟表,是滴漏,是鸡鸣,是潮汐,是产房初生婴儿的第一声啼哭,是黄土坡上长出的及膝深的蒿草,有形有声。有时,时间无影无踪。在街头、在车上、在河边,在亲朋聚会的饭桌上、在夫妻背对着背的床头、在老人寂寞注视的客厅,一根根手指在屏幕上不停地刷来刷去,一双双眼睛在铺天盖地的信息流中快速游走。没有热切交流,没有深情凝望,没有嘘寒问暖。时间像美丽的碎片,不知 Time is the time? Sometimes, the time is the clock, the hourglass, the cock, the tide, is the first cry of the newborn baby in the maternity ward, and is the knee-deep wormwood growing on the loess slope. Sometimes, time disappears. On the street, in the car, on the river, at the dinner table where relatives and friends meet, with the back of the couple facing the back of the bed, in the living room where the old man looks lonely, a root finger is constantly brushing on the screen, A pair of eyes in the overwhelming flow of information in the fast walk. No eager communication, no affectionate gaze, no greetings. Time is like beautiful fragments, I do not know