Hometown, that old well
Tree rings accompanying the years
Seasonal wind and rain erosion
The long river of memory
Turn into deep homesickness
Time no longer stays.
When I was young, I often drank old well water.
Grown jointing crops in yellow soil.
Day after day, year after year
Grow up slowly and quietly
In the changes of life
The old well in the village
It is parents who use cocoon-like hands.
An immortal monument was built.
Mossy cracks
It is the green flower tree in my life.
Squeaking pulley
Twist one by one.
People in the mountains are moving and singing.
The only thing that cannot be erased is
The bucket tinkled with the ripples of the well water.
Much like the smile on mom's face.
The circle rippled with warm memories.
Think about that hard past.
Has become history
Mountain people are in this old well every day.
Regain the hope of life
I am the youngest of the four brothers in our family.
My brothers are reluctant to part with me.
Is that they use black backs every day.
Hold up a blue sky of life at home.
Hometown, that old well
Weathered by years, wind, rain and snow
Still there
Although the new countryside of reform and opening up
Has rich wings.
Eat modern tap water like a city dweller.
But I'm wandering around
Every time I go back to my hometown
I have to run to the village head.
To visit the old well in my heart.
Author: Li pen name Chineydy
Wechat official account: Southwest Contemporary Writers Magazine.
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