瞧她那低着头，羞答答的样子，怎么跟火车上判若两人呢？
齐楚童不禁说：
“好吧，我不说这个，我说叶芝……你知道么，叶芝第.一次见她的时候，她伫立窗畔，身旁盛开着一大团苹果花；她光彩夺目，仿佛自身就是洒满了阳光的花瓣……爱情就这样，丘比特蒙着眼睛射着玩的，射中了就是射中了，不需要理由，更不可以计算……”
黛琳晕晕地听着，眼睛不知看什么好……
“我……”
“黛琳，我想问一下……”齐楚童认真地问，紧张得心都快跳到嗓子眼儿了。
“什么？”叶黛琳问。
齐楚童深吸一口气，大着胆子说：
“齐楚童这个人比较善纳雅言……哥儿们都说，在大学里遇到喜欢的美女一定要先号下，不然，大学毕业的时候就……所以嘛，我……”
天呐，能不能说点儿别的？
果然，齐楚童思绪很快又飞了！
“哎！美女！妳知道不知道白鸟？”
“什么白鸟？”
“叶芝的诗，The White Birds……”
THE WHITE BIRDS 一双白鸟
I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea:
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can pass by and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that never may die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose,
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam—I and you.
I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more:
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