论文部分内容阅读
同一个海岸,不知守望了多少年;同一辆单车,不知转过多少圈。晨风踏成了红霞一片,垂鬓转成黄发,在光影的夹缝中,找到了久违的背影—慢慢走近,刚要呼唤,一张嘴却又变成了花开的声音。这是短片《父女》的结尾,讲述的是一个女孩一生都在等待自己出海未归的父亲,最终在天堂相会的故事。我和我父亲之间没有这样柔肠寸断的剧情,但常觉得天下父女之间总隔一片海,总有个隐匿在光彩中的父亲,总有个失声的女儿,注定相望。
The same coast, I do not know how many years to watch; the same bike, I do not know how many turns around. Morning breeze into a Hongxia, drooping into yellow, caught in the shadow of light and shadow, found a long absence back - slowly approached, just to call, but one mouth has become a flower of the sound. This is the end of the short film “Father and Daughter,” about the story of a girl who has been waiting for her father, who has not returned to the sea, to finally meet in heaven. My father and I did not have such plots, but I often felt there was always a sea between my father and daughter, and there was always a father who was hidden in glory. There was always a soundless daughter, destined to face each other.