多年的风雨毁坏了古老的风车。叶轮已经锈了,倒了,静静地躺卧在茂盛的六月禾丛中。在落日的衬托下,曾经散发着生气的风车如今如耸立的尖塔般冰冷、生硬。我已经有十五年没有走过我们的农场了。然而,那些感觉又汹涌而至。我仿佛闻到了新割的苜蓿的清新气味,感觉到了冰冷的夏雨敲打在身上,还有七月的雨后阳光照射在湿漉漉的身上骤然传来的暖意。 Years of wind and rain destroyed the ancient windmill. Impeller has rust, fell, quietly lying in the flourishing June Wo Wo. Against the setting sun, the windmill, once exuded, is now as cold and stiff as a steep tower. I have not walked our farm for fifteen years. However, those feelings are surging again. I felt as if I had smelled the fresh smell of newly cut alfalfa, felt the cold summer rattles, and the sudden warmth of sunshine from the wet sun in July.