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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/c75ee5c96347dad3d64b1102ed708d83.mp3
点击复制Among her shelves of dust and sea
She reads aloud to waves that flee;
Her maple desk a keeper’s shrine
For words that guard the coastal line
Each book she turns releases sound
Of ships once lost of souls now found;
The beacon flashes with her voice
As syntax grants the storm a choice
She never waits for thanks or name
The tide erases all acclaim;
Yet pages dry where tempests fell
Because she read and read them well
At night she writes in steady hand
“To guide is not to understand;
It is to light where others steer
And trust the sea to draw them near ”