那是一面老墙。在老墙的这头是年幼的我,在老墙的那头便是年幼的你。当阳光开始浅浅地照进幽静的小巷中时,风把阳光香甜的味道送进屋里,又如温柔的摇篮,摇醒了你我。于是便默契地各自起来,或是敲敲老墙,把耳朵贴上去听听墙那方是否睡了懒觉。急急下楼去,小鞋踩在木梯上,传出一串清脆的声响,同时,又带着旋律似的悦动,轻快而又迫不及待。不一会儿,从老墙两边两孔窄窄的门框中探出两颗圆滚滚的小脑 That is an old wall. The head of the old wall is young, I am the youngest at the other end of the wall. As the sunshine begins to shimmer into quiet alleyways, the wind sends the sweet, sunny sunshine into the room, again like a gentle cradle, shaking you and me. So they tacitly up, or knock on the old wall, put the ear to listen to the wall that side is sleeping lazy. Rush down the stairs, small shoes on the wooden ladder, came a string of crisp sound, at the same time, with the melody-like Yue move, light and can not wait. A moment later, two circular billowing cerebras emanated from the two narrow holes in the two sides of the old wall