在乡间一绿意延伸着大地,那是苞米在摇曳丰收的高度。一千棵,无数棵汇成绵绵吟唱,透露黄土里珍藏万年的秘密。院落里倒下的笤帚,成为农家午后罅隙里一个庸懒的标点符号。那些黝黑、苍劲的汉子,永远穿梭在田间地头,布满老茧的手,日复一日在田间平整漏落的光阴。灶台前的女人,在琐碎里淘洗柴米油盐。庄稼地里那温情的牵挂,也会成为她们咀嚼的梦呓。 In the country a green extension of the earth, it is the height of corn in swaying harvest. Thousands, countless Hui Hui cotton singing, revealing the secrets of thousands of years loess. The fall of the courtyard of the broom, became a lazy punctuation in the farm afternoon gap. Those dark, vigorous man, always shuttle in the fields, covered with calluses hand, day by day in the field leveling leak time. The woman in front of the stove, in the trivial panning Pimlico salt. The warmth of the crops that care about, will be their chewing dreams.