送给大家穿越沙漠的那首诗歌

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T.S. Eliot (1888–1965).  The Waste Land.  1922.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow         
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,          
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only         
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,         
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,         
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only         
There is shadow under this red rock,          
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),         
And I will show you something different from either         
Your shadow at morning striding behind you         
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;         
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.          

aimerinter

LZ麻烦你把白金帖子编辑一下，不能上传图就拿相册外链。
http://imgur.com/
相册地址，直接上传就行，不用注册~

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发好了，谢谢~~~~~~~~~~~~~~