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我出生了,在伯父那壮志凛然的心脏停止博动二十年后的那个冬天。苦养刚刚收割完,这一堆那一堆地存放着养桔杆,红土地铮铮裸露出来,腥红得煞眼。夏天里的洪水冲凿出的山沟沟,布满山坡,像血液停止流动后僵直的脉管。一堆养桔杆背后,阳光充满灵性的手十分柔和地抚摸着产后还非常虚弱的母亲和血渍未干的我。幽静,空寂。这样的阳光在四十五年前也抚摸过奶奶和伯父。奶奶抱起我的时候说,这孩子真象他的伯父。命里注定,伯父和我在离开母体后,就被雄浑的红土高原接纳了。这是我们的根。尽管我们伯侄俩在相隔四十多年的不同历史里相继走出这块红土地,去追寻各自历史阶段属于自己的使命,可是灵魂永远不能移植他乡。不同的历史塑造着伯父和我,而我们伯侄俩又在不同的历史里创造自己的历史。奶奶为了我和伯父而六十年颤颤兢兢。
I was born, stopping the winter of twenty years after the awe-inspiring heart of the uncle. Bitterness has just finished reaping, piled up pile of that pile of reclaimed marshmallows, clandestinely exposed red, scarlet was evil eyes. The gully ditch ditched in the summer floods the hillsides, stiff blood vessels that stop flowing. Behind a pile of nourishing orange bar, the sun is full of spiritual hand very gentle stroking the post-natal mother is very weak and blood stains me. Quiet, empty silence. This sunshine also stroked grandmother and uncle forty-five years ago. My grandmother picked me up and said that this child is really like his uncle. Life is destined, uncle and I left the mother, it was accepted by the mighty Red Plateau. This is our root. Although our nephews and nephews have successively walked out of this piece of red land in different historical periods of more than 40 years to trace their respective historical stages as their own missions, the soul can never be transplanted to other countries. Different histories shape my uncle and me, and our nephews and nieces create their own histories in different histories. Grandma trembled for sixty years for me and my uncle.