金铃子补巴石荆棘丛中，枯草堆里，金铃子的叫声蒙上一层淡淡的月光。那般微弱，那般凄凉，仿佛有说不完的烦恼，诉不尽的忧伤。她太小了，像米粒那样，不可能发出雷电的怒吼、江河的咆哮、松涛的鼓荡。她的存在，仿佛仅仅只是为了在静夜的空寂中捕捉微响，以断断续续的音... Golden boll Bupa stone Thorn bush, the haystack, the golden bell’s voice cast a touch of moonlight. So faint, so desolate, as if endless troubles, endless grievances. She is too young, like rice grain, it is impossible to issue a thunder of lightning, the roar of the river, the pounding of the pineapple. Her existence, as if only just to capture the quiet in the silent night silence, intermittent tone ...