要我说:一个柏林墙死了,另一个柏林墙诞生了。我用东方男人的手抚摸柏林墙的时候,正值一个阵雨初歇的人间六月天,其时我的腿伤尚未痊愈,步履难免蹒跚,柏林墙使我同病相怜地抚摸到了一种伤口的感觉,这是一个早已流尽了最后一滴殷红鲜血的伤口,我所有的掌纹只是感受到了雨水、露珠和世人手掌的汗液混合的潮湿,隐隐有一抹类似眼泪的酸咸窜出墙体 To me: One Berlin Wall is dead, another Berlin Wall is born. When I touched the Berlin Wall with the hand of the Oriental Man, it was a human-day June day in the early break of the shower when my leg injury was still not healed and my steps were inevitably staggering. The Berlin Wall made me feel like a wounded feeling , This is a long ago has run out of the last drop of red blood wounds, all my palmprint just felt the rain, dew and the sweat of the palm of the world mixed wet, faintly touch of salt and salty like tears burst out of the wall