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当我从黑暗和潮湿的街道回到家,把它们锁在门外,我会体会到家的温馨。当火从壁炉里燃起,我会怀着得到慰藉的心情坐在跟前,呆上2小时,想着那过往的岁月,回忆那以前的情景,还有那曾经遇到过的如今已模糊不清的面庞;倾听着,回想着,直到很久以前的所有的声音都复于平静,一首现在已无人知道的老歌涌上了我的心头。可当我的沉思陷入越来越悲伤的时候,外面风的呼啸声变成了哀号,雨
点打在窗户上的声音也减弱了,最后一个个的声音的复于平静,直到传来最后一个流浪汉急促的脚步声也消失在远处,寂静一片!
Iwas glad enough when I reached my room and locked out the mold and the darkness.A cheery fire was burning in the grate, and I sat down before it with a comforting sense of relief , For two hours I sat there, thinking of bygone times, recalling old scenes, and summoning half-forgotten faces out of the mists of the past;listening,in fancy,to voices that long age grew silent for all time,and to once familiar songs that nobody sings now.And as my reverie softened down to a sadder and sadder pathos, the shrieking of the winds outside softened to a wail,,the angry beating of the rain against the panes diminished to a tranquil patter,and one by one the noises in the street subside, until the hurrying footsteps of the last brlated straggler died away in the distance and left no sound behind. |
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