一串快乐的小音符,他们穿过树林,越过大街,像风儿一样奔跑着,他们亲密无间,可是他们根本不知道自己是谁。也许他们是从琴行里一个梳着羊角辫的小妞妞那不生不熟却快乐的琴声中蹦出来的;也许是从田野上那个赶牛的小牧童的柳叶笛里飘出来的;也许是从春姐姐拂过的银色风铃中飞来的…… A string of happy little notes, running through the woods, across the street, running like a wind, they are intimate, but they do not know who they are. Perhaps they were jumped out of the not-so-fresh but cheerful piano of a little girl with a braided pigtail in the poncho; maybe it came out of the willow flute of the little shepherd boy who ran in the field; perhaps It is from the Silver Campanula spring sister brushed ...