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c9dy1736 · Posted: Fri 14:54, 25 Mar 2011 Post subject: Beats by Dr. Dre

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r5wd5347 · Posted: Mon 7:22, 04 Apr 2011 Post subject:

　　中心提醒：　　我书桌的左角有一盏台灯，台灯很普通，蓝蓝的外壳里嵌着两根细细的灯管，灯管白白的，发出的光也是白白的，下部还有一个小钟，每天滴滴答答地响着。　　就是这样一个普一般通的台灯，陪同我渡过多少个日昼夜夜，摇曳出我多少个懵懂的梦。　　每当玄色缓缓染透了天空的时候，我爱好一个人坐在书桌前，翻开这小小的台灯... 　　我书桌的左角有一盏台灯，台灯很普通,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]，蓝蓝的外壳里嵌着两根细细的灯管，灯管白白的，发出的光也是白白的，下部还有一个小钟，天天滴滴答答地响着。
　　就是这样一个普普通通的台灯，陪伴我度过多少个日日夜夜,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]，摇曳出我多少个懵懂的梦。
　　每当黑色渐渐染透了天空的时候，我喜欢一个人坐在书桌前，打开这小小的台灯，泡一杯咖啡，享受黑夜带给我的灵感与安馨。不知道为什么喜欢这种感觉，亦不知道这种感觉叫什么，只是心不禁得被这感觉彻底驯服。
　　台灯的光很祥和，很暖，每次打开它，就有一股暖流流入心底。莫名其妙的感觉却为之感动不已。
　　台灯是我上五年级的时候父亲送我的。父亲是个诚实人，或者是由于“父亲”这个特别的身份，他不擅长对我表白关心与爱。记得那个时候，父亲给我的感到老是严正的,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]，跟父亲谈话总是很缓和，说的话也大都是学习上的。
　　那时的我不懂事，很少去关怀父亲。印象里，那时的我很少对父亲笑过，我与父亲之间恍如是最熟习的生疏人。
　　可父亲是爱我的，他总是默默的为我付出。有一天，我正在写作业，父亲拿着一盏台灯走了进来，他微微把台灯放下，看了我一眼说“你每天写功课写得很晚，日光灯伤眼睛，用这盏台灯吧。”说完便走了出去。我至今不能忘了那时我的感觉，父亲的眼神一下子揪住了我的心，一种打动一下就涌了上来，似洪水般428cbcbabalienate5f0456550926d706ef910把持，我不知道那时我的表情是什么，只感到心里很热，好像忽然感触到父亲对我全体的爱。
　　这盏台灯始终陪伴我到了当初，它的光辉却从未削弱，仍是那么的亲热，那么的暖和,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]，那么的祥跟,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]。
　　后来有一次，台灯不知是何缘故不亮了。这可把父亲急逝世了，他左拆右拆忙活了一个下战书终于把台灯修睦了。当他满头汗珠把台灯交给我时,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]，我什么话也没说，因为我不晓得要说些什么，也许此时话语太苍白，宁静的心更能抒发些货色，我呆呆地把台灯接了过来，望着父亲走出我房门的身影，我觉得我心在落泪，是激动的泪。
　　父亲呵，我敬爱的父亲，你就像这台灯一样，照亮了我前行的路。
　　现在这个台灯已经很旧了，可是我舍不得把它扔掉。有一次，我的一个友人到我家玩，看到这盏台灯劝我换一个新的。我告知他这台灯固然变旧了，可这灯光还是一样的亲切啊。“这灯有故事啊”他笑了笑。我也笑了笑，没说什么。
　　是啊，这灯有故事，良多故事。我的一路有灯相伴，不会孤单。

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A hundred yards away was a straight road, show- ing white in the
moonlight. Endeavouring to orient himself, as a surveyor or navigator
might say, the man moved his eyes slowly along its visible length and at
a distance of a quarter-mile to the south of his station saw, dim and
grey in the haze, a group of horsemen riding to the north. Behind them
were men afoot, marching in column, with dimly gleaming rifles aslant
above their shoulders. They moved slowly and in silence. Another group
of horsemen, another regiment of infantry, another and another --all in
unceasing motion toward the man's point of view, past it, and beyond. A
battery of artillery followed, the cannoneers riding with folded arms on
limber and caisson. And still the interminable procession came out of
the obscurity to south and passed into the obscurity to north, with
never a sound of voice, nor hoof, nor wheel.
The man could not rightly understand: he thought himself deaf; said
so, and heard his own voice, al- though it had an unfamiliar quality
that almost alarmed him; it disappointed his ear's expectancy in the
matter of timbre and resonance. But he was not deaf, and that for the
moment sufficed.