那是一间老屋。老屋的外墙,斑斑驳驳,散发着古旧的味道,像一位老人,白发、皱纹、旧衣、浑浊的眼、瘪瘪的嘴,安详宁静,沉默无言,望着丰富多彩的世界。这里没有落满尘土的枯木,这里没有尖锐刺耳的噪音,这里没有狭窄昏黄的天空,这里没有满是垃圾的荒地,这里没有呛人的烟虫,更没有 That is an old house. The exterior walls of the old house are riddled with old tastes like an old man with white hair, wrinkles, old clothes, turbid eyes, sly mouths, serene and tranquil, silent and looking at the colorful world. There is no dead wood that is covered with dust. There is no harsh noise. There is no narrow, dimly sky. There is no wasteland filled with rubbish. There are no smoky insects, and no more.