父亲喜爱读书。他并不宽敞的书房内挺立着一个偌大的书橱,他喜欢将自己精心挑拣后的文学名著用深褐色的牛皮纸包着封面和封底,整齐地置放在书橱内,隔着透明的玻璃橱窗,散发着淡淡的清香。在我的记忆里,父亲时常穿着一件白色衬衫,戴着一副眼镜,在书桌前点起一盏昏黄的台灯,书桌上摊开着一本他喜欢的书。他用手指轻轻夹起书页,然 My father likes reading. He does not have a spacious study with a huge bookcase standing upright. He likes to pack his well-chosen literary masterpiece with brown brown kraft paper on the front cover and the back cover neatly in the bookcase, across the transparent glass window, Exudes a touch of fragrance. In my memory, my father often wears a white shirt, a pair of glasses, a dimly lit desk lamp, and his desk bears a favorite book. He gently pinched the page with his finger, however