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冬天是一个剧场,母亲已为我买好了门票雪花是最棒的舞者,她们不认识导演,也不喜欢任何多余的台词,只是单一地喜欢舞蹈。天空广阔,语言略显无力,只有舞蹈才够宏大,才够抒情,才算绝美。总有看不见的风,像似在掌控雪花的方向,而任何掌控都是短暂的,雪花任由风去指点,无论飘多久,最后雪花还是要落下来,落下来。一些雪来到去年的草地,另一些雪回到了久违的田野,更多的雪做了山的披肩,房的衣衫,树的围巾,草的裙裾。有时雪也做了我的睫毛、我的汗滴。
Winter is a theater, the mother has bought tickets for me Snow is the best dancer, they do not know the director, do not like any extra lines, just like a single dance. The vast sky, the language is a bit weak, only enough to dance large enough to lyrical enough to be beautiful. There is always invisible wind, like controlling the direction of snowflakes, and any control is short, the snow let the wind to point, no matter how long, the last snow or to fall, fall. Some snow came to the grassland last year, while others returned to the long lost fields. More snow made the mountain shawls, room clothes, tree scarves and grass skirts. Sometimes snow also made my eyelashes, my sweat drops.