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眼前的这位邻家老头,头大如斗,秃顶,永远都是笑眯眯的,像一尊弥勒佛,喜欢他的人都亲切地叫他“老钱”。他像一个老顽童,永远都乐呵呵的,对谁都是春天般的温暖。他不摆谱,没有一丁点架子,从不高高在上,那种朴实的平易近人,似乎与他的血脉融为一体。他对年青人永远是支持,是鼓励,是同情,无论年青人的想法是多么幼稚,多么轻狂,多么可笑。
In front of the neighbor, the old man, as big as bucket, bald, always smiling, like a Maitreya Buddha, like him who kindly called him “old money ”. He is like an old urchin, always happy, for whom are spring-like warmth. He does not set the table, there is no single little shelf, never superior, that simple approachable, seems to be integrated with his blood. He is always supportive of young people, encouraging, sympathetic, no matter how naive, frivolous and absurd as young people think.