今夜依旧。人也朦胧,影也朦胧。只是,今晚的月色如带着淡淡忧伤的泪水,而那月儿却早已是泪水迷蒙的泪眼了。窗台上摇曳着一支烛,那荧荧的烛火无奈地摇曳,流下淡淡的烛泪,渐渐地凝固,仿佛偶尔驻足的流水,恰似刚出炉的鲜奶面包,更像质朴的汉白玉雕。“红烛啊/这样红的烛/诗人啊/ Tonight is still. People are dim, shadow is also hazy. Only, tonight, such as moonlight with a touch of sad tears, but that month has long been the tears of tears in tears. Slipping a candle on the window sill, the fluorescent Ying candlelight helpless swaying, shed a touch of tears, gradually solidified, as if the occasional stopped running water, just like fresh milk bread, more like a simple white marble carving. "Candle ah / such a red candle / poet ah /