在远离陆地的寒冷海面上,我们夜夜等候着浓雾的来临。雾来了。我和唐给黄铜的机械上好油,点亮了石塔顶端的雾灯。就像灰色天空下的两只鸟儿,我们把光束送出塔顶,让它触摸大海。即使他们看不到灯光,总还有我们的声音,我们的雾角那广阔深沉的呼喊,颤抖着穿透海雾的残片。“唐,当你一个人留在这里时,你都在想些什么呢?”“我想大海的秘密。”唐点燃了他的烟斗。这是十一月的寒冷夜晚,时间是七点一刻。 We were waiting for the advent of thick fog night after night on the cold sea far from the land. The fog is coming. I and Tang to the mechanical brass good oil, lit tower fog lights at the top. Like two birds under the gray sky, we send the light beam out of the tower to make it touch the sea. Even though they can not see the lights, there is always our voice, the vast, deep shout of our misty corners, and the trembling fragments that penetrate the sea fog. “Don, what are you thinking of when you’re alone here?” “I want the secrets of the sea.” "Don lit his pipe. This is a cold night in November, the time is seven o’clock.