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凌晨,3时。大地静极,万物酣睡。伴随着闪电、鸣雷,一场秋雨,瞬间从天空的黑铁锅倾倒而下,天地间一道如注的雨帘,密集紧凑如瀑。闪电,幻化成一条金色的蛇,在喀什噶尔的夜空中舞动、游走,时而东,时而西,时而北,时而南。除了万物惊恐的眼神,在西部大地的舞台上,我是唯一的观赏者。我沉迷于雨的矫健,惊叹于雨的速度,多么任性的一场秋雨,敲开了喀什噶尔深夜的木门。
Midnight, 3 o’clock. The earth is quiet, everything is asleep. With the lightning, Ming Lei, an autumn rain, an instant from the sky of the black wok dumping down, between the world like a note of the rain curtain, intensive compact waterfall. Lightning, turned into a golden snake, dancing in the night sky in Kashgar, wandering, sometimes East, sometimes West, sometimes North, sometimes South. In addition to the terrified eyes of all things, I was the only spectator on the stage of the Western Earth. I am addicted to the vigorous rain, marvel at the speed of the rain, how wayward autumn rain, knocked on the Kashgar night wooden door.