大年初一，赶去吃团圆饭，正巧路过甜爱路。这是条有意思的路，不光从名字，而是给人的感觉。街道的一边挂着满满一片的诗集，忘不到尾。那些熟悉的名字，徐志摩，顾城，泰戈尔被嵌在了镜框里，述说着那些逝去的情感。

      停下脚步，在接近零度的天气里，开始背起叶慈的诗——


      When You are Old
 
      When you are old and gray and full of sleep     
        And nodding by the fire, take down this book,     
       And slowly read, and dream of the soft look     
      Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;     
 
      How many loved your moments of glad grace,
        And loved your beauty with love false or true;     
        But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,     
      And loved the sorrows of your changing face.     
 
      And bending down beside the glowing bars,     
        Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
        And paced upon the mountains overhead,     
      And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

      我喜欢你，不是因为你的容颜
      而是你那朝圣的灵魂
      依稀记得 很久以前
      也曾说过同样的话呢