by:丧家犬也有乡愁
the past few days, I left the hotel up to a maximum distance of over 800 meters. After the evening finally Chang'an Street, this familiar Zhang Jie, in the cold early spring, the roar from, the precise impact of my nerves. In that moment I suddenly fragile, the bottom of my heart the great compassion, the desolation, like the tides, as a mighty force, Benyong out.
I
Wang Jian and the Tiananmen Square. Three years ago the early autumn, Young Chicks birthday, her first trip to here. At the time we first arrived in Beijing. I even remember that we had just drilled out the subway I scenarios.
Wang Jian of the eggs I
west of a small alley, two years ago, Chen Lao and asked me where to eat, Guilin is a cuisine, is said inside the rice flour is the most authentic Beijing. I still remember, Sanhuo when I first saw the rain in Beijing, or artificial rainfall. Rained with Heini, playing in my face.
I
Wang Jian of the Beijing Hotel. 2006 autumn, I go there to meet Ye Zhaoyan, met Su Tong, met Lindbergh. They are my favorite writers. They all and I Yixianrugu.
this Changjie, many of my private memory. It also has China's many memories. 32 years ago, a person who is Wu Hao, Hai his body, slowly through this street, on both sides of the street, many weeping people. Numerous people wearing white flowers, Cigu
original link:http://sohuliuyuan.blog.sohu.com/83529861.html
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