周一早晨,我到办公室,刚打开窗,风里吹落什么,从我的衣上擦过,飘到地上。我俯身去看,是一只死去的豆娘。轻轻地拾起,轻盈如无物,它已干枯了。忽然记起小时候我总是在水边追赶豆娘,但是它们倏忽如光影,总是让我落空。艳羡过它们,那么轻,那么快,将满世界的重就那样丢在了身后。可是现在,到底还是知道了,它也有飞不过去的时候。隔着一层玻璃的距离,窗外是无边春色。可是它再也嗅不着那槐花 On Monday morning, I went to the office, just opened the window, what was blowing in the wind, wiped my clothes and floated to the ground. I leaned to see, is a dead damselfly. Lightly picked up, light as nothing, it has dried up. Suddenly I remembered a child I always catch the damsel in the water, but they suddenly like light and shade, always let me fall. Enamored them, so light, so fast, will be lost all over the world like that behind. But now, in the end still know, it can not fly too late. Across a layer of glass, the window is boundless spring color. But it never sniffed that Sophora japonica