沙滩上撒满了闪亮的贝壳,像是掉了一地的繁星。那孩子捡起一个贝壳看看,随手就把它丢弃。他已经寻找了一个下午,始终没有找到他心目中那最美丽,最稀罕的贝壳。夕阳把海和天渲染成一片深深的紫色。他的友伴们快乐地哼着歌儿,提着满满一篮子的贝壳。只有他仍孤独地拖着长长的影子,在海滩上茫然地找寻。海浪喧哗着卷上来,洗去了印在沙上的小小足迹,他手中的篮子仍然空着。这是小时候听到过的故事,已记不清孩子们捡拾的到底是贝壳还是别的。 The beach is full of shimmering shells, like falling stars. The child picked up a shell to see, readily discard it. He had searched for an afternoon and never found the most beautiful and rarity shell in his mind. Sunset and sea render a deep purple. His friends hummed happily, carrying a basket full of shells. Only he still lonely long shadow, at a loss on the beach to find. The waves stirred up, washed away the small footprint printed on the sand, and the basket in his hand was still empty. This is a story I had heard from a young age. I have not recalled how the children picked up the shells or anything else.