大鸟不飞不游,却在秋天里独步。那张张落叶般的脚印,零乱地铺在碧波秋水的湖畔。它一副木然的样子,想上半天,才伸出瘦腿迈上半步,缓慢地又往泥滩上添上一枚枯枝败叶一样的爪迹。这呆相的大鸟,常佝偻起它那身体,曲颈站着,索性在青峰和苍水之间,凝固成了一个白色的问号。而天空,已被群鸟的翅膀占领了。 Bird does not fly does not swim, but in the autumn alone. That leaf-like footprints, messy shop in the blue water autumn lake. It looks like a wooden, like a half-day, before reaching a half step stovepipe, and slowly to the mud on the beach with a dead leaf like the same trail. The big bird who stayed in this room often swirled its body and stood on his curious neck. He just solidified himself into a white question mark between Qingfeng and Ganshui. The sky, the birds have been occupied by the wings.