这是夏日一个宁静的午后。斯德哥尔摩大街上行人稀少,空气里流淌着慵懒的气息。树叶在暖融融的阳光里恹恹欲睡。如果不是翩然而舞的蝴蝶,谁也不会注意到蹴圪在花园旁边的那个乞丐,他正低着头,手里拿着一根枯枝,或许是一粒石子,在地上写写划划。该不会是算计讨了多少克朗吧。“嗨,你在干什么呢?”一个天籁般温软甜美的声音从天而降。他哆嗦了一下,然后慢慢抬起头来。不知道他是陶醉于女孩甜美的声音,还是被女孩的美貌吓 This is a quiet summer afternoon. There are few pedestrians on the streets of Stockholm and lazy breaths in the air. Leaves in the warm sun 恹 恹 sleepy. If not a butterflies fluttering dance, no one noticed the beggar who wandered by the garden, he was head down, holding a dead branch in his hand, maybe a stone, writing on the ground planning . It will not count how many kroner it. “Hey, what are you doing?” A sweet, sweet voice sounds like heaven. He shivered a bit, then slowly looked up. Do not know he is intoxicated sweet voice of the girl, or the girl’s beauty scared