窗外的风吹净了灯火下最后的浮尘,层层叠叠的楼房里,有笛声在回旋。晚上九十点钟,我伏案做着习题,那时的小区已是寂寞凄清,忽有笛声传入我的耳朵,那笛声冲破了空气的重围,像一朵浪花在海中驰骋,掠过暗黄的路灯,越过高低的楼房,似乎整个小区都在与这稚嫩的笛声相呼应,可那笛声微弱不已,似夏夜里淡淡 The wind outside the window net the last dust under the lights, layers of buildings, there whistle in the maneuver. At 90 o’clock in the evening, I was doing exercises at the desk. At that time, the community was lonely and desolate. There was a flute coming into my ear, and the sound of flute broke through the encirclement of the air and ran like a spray in the sea. Dark yellow street lights, across the level of the building, it seems that the entire community are in tune with this immature whistle, but that faint sound of flute, like the summer night light