萌说,想听爸爸讲故事。”
那么小的孩
,哪会说话,分明就是小姑娘自己的小心思罢了。许墨笑着转
,摸了摸简诗
的侧脸:“那萌萌有说,要听哪个故事吗?”
嘴里说着“萌萌”,
睛却只看着自己,简诗只觉得自己被他
碰到的地方都有些发烧。她别过了视线:“要、要不你念首诗?”
一会儿拿孩
当借
要听故事,一会儿又改
要听诗。果然这么多年了,小姑娘还是个连撒谎都不会的小傻瓜。
但她的请求,许墨又怎么会不应呢。
他在脑海里搜索片刻,才找到了那首适合念给她们听的诗。
简诗微微闭着
睛,丈夫温
的呼
就在旁边,只予自己的温柔嗓音也随之响了起来(莎士比亚《so 18》):
“Shall I pare thee to a summer's day
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold plexion dimm'd
And every fair from fair sometime dees,
By ce or nature's ging course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When iernal lines to time thougrow'st.
So long as me
reathe or eye