The author looms above his page and thinks it strange that at his age he cannot find the proper words to describe his only world. One would think that in a life where no two snowflakes are alike, one would have the perfect rhyme for each and every bi.
作者若隐若现地出现在他的页面上，觉得奇怪的是，在他这个年纪，竟找不到合适的词来描述他唯一的世界。有人会想，在没有两片雪花是一样的生活中，每一个双音节都有完美的押韵。