漂泊过岁月的漫漫风尘许多奇花异草的芳香都被疏淡唯有那热热闹闹缀满山坡的金银花在记忆深处浓香依然母亲背着贫穷和饥饿编织的竹篓从一座山坡采撷到另一座山坡山歌和夕阳一同从竹篓边轻轻滑落我用一双屏弱的小手帮母亲把一簇簇金黄的祈愿摊开当商人的马车从我家门前辗过之后? The long-drawn-out years of long-lived aromas of many exotic flowers are neglected. Only the lively hill-stalked honeysuckle is harvested from a hillside in the deepest memory of the fragrant flowers and the bamboo woven by the mother with poverty and hunger. Another hillside song and the sun set down gently from the edge of the bamboo pole. I used a small pair of weak hands to help my mother with a cluster of golden prayers spread out as a businessman’s carriage from behind my house?