《云》

By Ouyang Yu

《云》

 

12点过一点出去散步，12点40返回，中途没照几张相，也只说了一首诗，好像有什么阻止着自己，不再做这些平时最喜欢做的事。也许是世人的不感兴趣，但世人跟我没有关系。我从不关心他们，也不在乎他们是否关心自己。只有天上的那些云是我最喜欢看的。百看千看万看不厌。走到家门口台阶时才想起，云长的样子，从来都不像任何东西。随它怎么摆布，随它怎么变化，那种乖张，那种游离，那种不驯，那种无羁，那种随意，那种任性，都是在任何地方看不到的，只在云那儿能看到。今天里面涌现出的白，总好像是一种化学反应。正是这个词，在我想到的时间点和地点，使我产生了某种诗意：被人爱，真是一种很不舒服的感觉。

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