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我看到十二月站在门外,它精神抖擞完全不像冬天的样子。冬天是什么样子。我的一个朋友感叹道:“一年的好日子不多了。”对他,十二月意指一座房子的倒塌,或一场没有感应的内心独白?而我却欢喜这十二月的重临,仿佛去年的风又一次吹来远方的声息。我爱远方,那种单纯的脱离有生活模式的改变:在去年冬天经历着什么,我一个人到过哪里:张家界、成都、三星堆?我真的到过那些把空气搬到纸上的地方?啊,是的,只要还有诗歌我就能记住:“一个女子怀揣着自己
I saw standing in front of the door in December, it is full of energy is not like winter. What is winter? One of my friends exclaimed: ”“ There is not much time for a good year. ”“ For him, December means the collapse of a house, or an emotional soliloquy, and I rejoice this December The return of the past, as if last year’s wind once again blowing the sound of the distance. I love the distance, the simple change from a living model: What went through last winter, where I have been: Zhangjiajie, Chengdu, Sanxingdui? I really have been to those who moved the air to the paper place? Ah, yes, as long as there are poems I can remember: ”a woman with himself