在我的案头放着一只枣红色的木鱼,上面精雕着细密的鱼纹,相连的两孔只有当窗外的阳光射进时才离开黑暗。每当劳累了一天回到家里,或在假日阳光灿烂的早晨,我都喜欢静静地躺在床上凝视它,黑暗中的鱼孔蕴含着沉淀的记忆,耳畔便会有各种新旧交混的木鱼声,飘渺于云间。追逐着蒲公英的小伞,童年的我终日在一片长满芦苇的浅滩上和伙伴们窜来窜去,在这无忧的日子里,我的心灵常常被从滩旁草屋里传来的神秘的木鱼 In my desk, there was a red-colored wooden fish with finely carved fish patterns. The two connected holes left the darkness only when the sunlight outside the window shot. Whenever I return home at a tired day or on a sunny morning in the holidays, I like to lie quietly in my bed and stare at it. The fish holes in the darkness contain memories of precipitation. There are various old and new crosstalks in the ears. The sound of wooden fish floats in the clouds. In pursuit of the little umbrella of dandelion, my childhood I lingered with my partners all day long on a shoal of reeds. On this worry-free day, my soul was often mysteriously transmitted from the beachside hut. Wooden fish