爱玲:我坐在忘川里的湖边,看微风拂过,湖面浮着枯黄的柳叶,柳枝垂落水面,等待着风给予的飘落,那是种凋零的美。风的苍凉里,我听到了那款款袭来的秋的脚步正透过水 Ai Ling: I am sitting in the lake in the forgotten Chuan, see the breeze blowing, the lake floating yellow willow, willow hanging down the water, waiting for the wind to give the fall, it is a kind of withered beauty. In the desolation of the wind, I heard that the autumnal passage of that paragraph was penetrating the water