燕子去了,有再来的时候;杨柳枯了,有再青的时候;桃花谢了,有再开的时候。但是,记忆的轮痕无论碾了哪儿,记忆中的那抹绿始终不曾再现……秋日的黄昏,赤褐色的阳光落在身上,微微地有些醉人。退休的奶奶常喜欢提一只木凳,蹒跚着走到最东边的路口,静静地坐着,不 The swallows are gone, and when they come again; the willows are withered, and there are times when they are green; the peaches are thankful and they have to be reopened. However, no matter where the wheel marks of memory, the green in the memory has never been reproduced. In the evening of autumn, the tan light falls on the body and is slightly intoxicating. Retired grandmother often likes to bring a wooden stool, squatted to the easternmost intersection, and sat quietly, not