山风吹拂,漫步泸定桥上。河水卷拥着白浪,不舍昼夜流向天际。远山葱翠,半山处是来往不断的采摘鲜果的人们,一派繁忙景象。泸定桥曾是由川入藏的咽喉孔道和军事要津,桥上走过戍边的勇兵,也走过通商的马帮。如今远去了刀光剑影,经了岁月的洗礼,经了无数双手的抚摸,根根铁索再无半点寒气,更透出浓浓的沧桑印记,多了几分阅尽尘世的老者的淡 Wind blowing, stroll Luding Bridge. The river is crowded with white waves, shed its day and night to the sky. Lush mountains, half-mountain office is constantly picking fresh fruit people, a busy scene. Luding Bridge was once by Sichuan into the possession of throat hole and the military to Tianjin, the bridge walked by the guard of the brave soldiers, but also through the trade caravan. Now far away the Swordsmanship, after years of baptism, after countless hands stroking, rooted in iron and then no slightest chill, but also revealing the thick of the vicissitudes of life imprint, a little more to read the earthly old man’s light