我不愿多去解释昨天,其实也是有点小怕。高考结束后四脚朝天的夜晚,也最好不要在夜晚回忆过去,不然它总会像隐疾一样烧过身心,继而烧完你原本完整又干净的夜晚。这个夏天的起因追溯到上一个夏天。刚满十八岁,世界在眼眶里翻新了一层。几个月后的高二暑假,我偶然读了几行聂鲁达的散文。从少年起笔,他脚下遇过智利的森林,手心擎着茂盛的诗句,自由而野蛮地生长在诗的原始森林里。我当然慢不下来去接受诗的节奏,因为高三不明不白不管不顾地开始了。 I do not want to explain more yesterday, in fact, is a bit scared. After the college entrance examination ends of the night overturned, it is best not to recall the past in the night, otherwise it will always burn as physical or mental illness, and then burn your original complete and clean night. The cause of this summer dates back to the previous summer. Just turned eighteen years old, the world in the eyes of a layer of renovation. A few months after the sophomore summer vacation, I accidentally read a few lines of Neruda’s prose. From the beginning of the juvenile, he met the Chilean forest at the foot of his hand palm-lined rich verse, free and savage growth in the original forest of poetry. Of course, I can not slow down to accept the rhythm of poetry, because the third year of unknown ignorance began.