本以为那条雨巷是再熟悉不过的了,但当我站在它的面前,我明白:我错了。幻想毕竟不是现实,但现实同样可以美得令幻想臣服。我昔日无度量的猜疑,全部化作了说不出的沉默。
I thought that the rain lane could not be more familiar, but when I stood in front of it, I understood: I was wrong. After all, fantasy is not reality, but reality can also make fantasy submissive. My past boundless suspicions turned into unspeakable silence.
我不由得也撑起一把伞,在巷中走着、想着……
I can't help but hold up an umbrella and walk in the lane thinking
巷子是窄窄的,窄得那样恰到好处,既幽深又毫不压抑。两壁是斑剥的青灰色的墙,高大而内敛。青黛色的瓦是雨巷中的天际线,醒目而和谐。凝重而坚致的青石板凹凸不平、形态不一,却以它们的不完美完成了墙与墙之间的完美连接。一切色相都在这里隐退,一切线条都在这里舒展,都在这里安详地演绎,它们粗粗细细、深深浅浅。
The alley is narrow, just right, deep and uninhibited. The two walls are mottled green gray walls, tall and introverted. The blue and white tiles are the skyline in the rain lane, striking and harmonious. The dignified and firm bluestone plates are uneven and have different shapes, but they complete the perfect connection between the wall and the wall with their imperfections. All the hues fade here, all the lines stretch here, and all of them are interpreted peacefully here. They are thick, thin, deep and shallow.
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