面对明月,往事如烟如雾。杜甫有诗曰:“露从今夜白,月是故乡明。”回首成长的历程,有谁能走出那一片永恒而深情的月光呢?孩提时代,我在江苏生活了两年。记忆深处,不是那“故人楼上,凭谁指与,芳草斜阳”的动人画卷,也不是清丽的小桥流水与古老的亭台楼阁,而是那个驼背的身影和那轮皎洁的明月。 In the face of the moon, the past is like smoke and fog. Du Fu has poetry: “Lu from the night to night, the moon is the hometown of Ming.” Looking back on the history of growth, who can walk out of the eternal and affectionate moonlight? Childhood, I lived in Jiangsu for two years. In the depths of memory, it is not the moving picture of the “upstairs upstairs, by whom we mean, and the sidelines of the grass,” nor is it the clear bridges and ancient pavilions, but the humpback figure and the round of cleanliness. The moon.