我如今是再也见不到那只蜻蜒了。那天,突来的闪电和暴雨使村庄的一切陷于潮湿的沉默,而一个光着脚丫的孩子,呼吸着似乎来自语文课本中古老寓言的清香,开始了他像野草一样漫山遍野的思考(虽然雨幕的背后没有老师)。天空重新换上光洁的礼服。现实的矮山、小树、牛槽、松软的石头……屋檐下成串的永远无法相连的水滴,一切的一切,全部的全部,是柔弱。这是水的本质,是云的精魂。乡村轻逸的不知苦难的 I can’t see the embarrassment anymore. On that day, sudden lightnings and heavy rain caused all the villages to sink into a damp silence, while a barefooted child breathed in the fragrance that seemed to come from ancient parables in Chinese textbooks, and began to think about wild grass like weeds (although the curtain of rain There is no teacher behind.) The sky was replaced with a clean dress. Realistic dwarf mountains, small trees, cattle troughs, fluffy stones, and a series of water droplets that can never be connected under the eaves. Everything, all, all, is weak. This is the essence of water, the spirit of the cloud. The village is light and unknowable