路过一棵枫树阳光打盹,停在最后一片叶子上,不动了。风像往常一样,吹过我十八岁的头顶,在树枝间荡一下午秋千,不说话。我穿得很少,装成游客路过那棵树。看它赤裸地掉光衣服,有点难为情。但我忍不住看它,我知道它也在看我。后来有些叶子被我踩疼了,那些离我远的叶,借着风不住地往前跑,它们好像怕我。我没追,我才不管呢。 Passing by a maple tree sunshine, parked in the last leaf, does not move. As usual, the wind blew over my eighteen-year-old head and swung an afternoon swing between branches without talking. I wear very little, pretend to be tourists passing the tree. Look at it naked fall clothes, a bit embarrassed. But I can not help but watch it, I know it's watching me too. Later, some of the leaves were hurt by me. Those leaves that are far away from me run forward by the wind, and they seem to be afraid of me. I did not chase, I just do not care.