我仍记得,也是这样的烟雨天气,我执伞走进深远的古巷,走过布满岁月痕迹的青石板,双手抚摸着爬山虎疯长的高墙。可还记得,烟雨江南中,那执伞缓行的翩翩少年?总以为,那样的烟雨年复一年的会来,那个一路陪着的人不会走,那双一直牵着的手不会松。谁曾想,再见只是一句脱口而出的话语;诀别只是一个简单随意的转身;如今的细雨再也没有那年嫣然的味道。很 I still remember that it was such a rainy day that I walked into the ancient lane with my umbrella and walked past the bluestone covered with years of traces of both hands and stroked the soaring high walls of ivy. Can remember, Amidst the Jiangnan, that the parachute execution of the adolescent? Always think that kind of misty rain will come year after year, that along with the people will not go, the pair has been holding the hand will not loose . Who had thought, goodbye is just a blurted discourse; farewell is just a simple and arbitrary turn around; now the rain no longer sweet flavor that year. very