我的老师张传淦先生走过了人生的95个春秋,在熟睡中平静地过世了。老师离世之前,正是秋叶将黄未黄时节。一个天色灰蒙的下午,我到解放军306医院见了他最后一面。病床上的先生清瘦了许多,如同根雕的手臂上插着管子,病中的老人神情安然。他之前已有两次摔伤住院,每次都显得豁达、开朗,对战胜病痛充满信心。这次,在未插管还能说话的时候,老师托付女儿给我传话,想要见见我。在他的病榻前,我弯腰 Mr. Chang Chuan-kan, my teacher, passed through the 95 years of his life and died peacefully in his sleep. Before the teacher passed away, it was the yellow leaves of autumn leaves. A gray afternoon, I went to the People’s Liberation Army 306 Hospital saw his last face. Sick on the bed a lot thinner, like the root carved on the arm inserted tube, the sick old man looked safe. He had been hospitalized twice before falls, each showing open-mindedness, cheerfulness and confidence in victory over illness. This time, when I was able to speak without being intubated, the teacher entrusted her daughter with a messenger and wanted to meet with me. Before his sick bed, I bent over