风有风走的路,人有人过的道,大地之脉,在巴山汉水的血肉之躯里,律动。所谓气象,就囤积在草木间。外公是个聪明人。他整理了一辈子土地,顺着大地的脉象,挥毫泼墨,直到油尽灯枯。外公现在躺在山上。房前是一条河。门前站着常青树。屋后枕着大巴山。这是他生前看下的地脉:日生日灭,水流水长。 The wind and the wind go the way, some people had Road, the pulse of the earth, in the flesh of Bashan Han water, rhythm. The so-called weather, hoarding in the vegetation. Grandpa is a wise man. He had arranged the land of his entire life, following the pulse of the earth and splashing ink until the oil ran out of light. Grandfather is now lying on the mountain. In front of a river. Stand in front of evergreen trees. Dabushan behind the pillow. This is the earth he saw before his death: birthday off, water flow length.