不是月亮,而是一朵花浮现在水的另一边。水汹涌而去,裹挟着树枝,卷走了一整棵树,一座谷仓和一座桥。花在遥远的岸上歌唱。不是一朵花,而是一只鸟,藏在最幽深的树林中鸣唱,歌声掠过水面,在河流棕色的褶皱中制造出一种沉默。月亮,不,是一个年轻男子正走在树下。树叶间挂着灯笼。温柔,聪明又愉悦,他的脸焕发着天然的光芒,我看见他穿过水面,仿佛在靠近。 Not the moon, but a flower floating on the other side of the water. Water raging away, clutching the branches, swept away a whole tree, a barn and a bridge. Flowers sing in the distant shore. Not a flower, but a bird, singing in the deepest woods, singing over the water, creating a silence in the brown folds of the river. The moon, no, is a young man walking under a tree. Hanging lanterns between the leaves. Gentle, clever and cheerful, his face glowed with natural light, I saw him across the water as if near.