夜很深,也很静。流水般的月光倾泻进了村子,溅到了窗户上。风轻抚着树枝,发出来自远方的呼唤。庭院里的那口古井,清楚地倒映着我曾经在井旁的柳树上那猴跃的童年。辘轳上那长满黑斑的麻绠,依然牢牢地吊着我的心事,绷得像调紧的弦。“月光光,亮堂堂,背书包,进学堂……”井边学会的童谣鲜活如初,只是教我童谣的奶奶,如今却已独卧青山。奶奶的声音已成为记忆,然而奶奶的血必将灌溉我的一生。 The night is very deep and quiet. Watery moonlight pours into the village and splashes on the windows. The wind caresses the branches and sends out calls from afar. The ancient well in the courtyard clearly reflects the childhood of my monkey leap on the willow tree next to the well. The paralyzed numbness on his back was still holding my heart firmly and stretched like a tight string. “Moonlight is light, bright, backshoe, and into the school...” The nursery rhyme learned from the well-being was as old as ever. She taught me the grandma of a nursery rhyme. She is now alone in Qingshan. The voice of grandma has become a memory, but the blood of grandma will surely irrigate my life.