七月,暮雨,热气腾腾地降下来。蝴蝶飞到窗玻璃上,扑打着翅膀。我来不及打开窗户,它就飞走了。它停在不远处的树叶上,在雨雾中轻轻地扇动翅膀,我看得见它的眼睛,扑闪扑闪的,好像在说话。屋子里也有蝴蝶,它安静地躺在那里,在我伸手可及的地方——那是一只蝴蝶标本,多年后的今天依然安静地躺在一个精致的玻璃盒子里,透明的玻璃 July, twilight, steaming down. The butterfly flew to the window glass, fluttering its wings. I had time to open the window and it flew away. It parked on the leaves not far away, gently flap the wings in the rain and fog, I can see its eyes, flashed, as if to speak. There was also a butterfly in the house, where it lay quietly, in my reach - it was a butterfly specimen, and many years later still quietly lying in a delicate glass box, a transparent glass