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夜幕下忽有狂风大作,席卷、叩击着万物,仿佛在刻意寻找尘世间的一些秘密。而更多时候的微风轻漾,像肌肤沐浴着词语,呼吸和吐纳着日月更新。风若如禅,我退守的疆域,将以裸露的情感,接受岁月的洗礼。风以无形的所在,漂泊灵魂的动感,追寻托寄丝缕般不断的情怀,无声的表情,一地绿肥红瘦,淹没自我迟暮的江山。有谁,还在倾听风笛的悠扬?将深怀于心的琴谱,常在素手间弹奏。
Suddenly under the gust of wind blew, swept, knocking on all things, as if looking for some of the earthly secret. More often, the light breeze, bathing words like the skin, breathing and breathing the sun and the moon updates. Wind Ru if Zen, I retreated to the territory, will be exposed emotion, accept the baptism of time. The wind is invisible, the movement of the wandering soul, looking for the constant care of sending silk thread, silent expression, a green and thin, submerged self-denying country. Who else, still listening to the melodious bagpipe? The heart of the piano scores, often played in prime.