Author: Xie Keqiang Research object: village girl
You stand, you just stand, you just stand alone, standing in the boundless desert.
What about the leaves waving the flag of your life? What about the bird that took a nap on your branch and flew away? What about the ups and downs of rushing from afar to understand your deep wrinkles?
After many joys and sorrows, everything has gone away, only you stand silently and hold up a bright and lofty sky.
From your thinning branches and leaves, I know you are getting old.
Is it true that your exuberant roots are exposed to the ground and you lose the desire to go deep into the soil? On your rugged back, there are not only rings that many people can't experience, but also scars of wind and rain erosion (shí), engraved with the marks of vicissitudes. !
Now, I will sit quietly on your roots, with the boundless sunset and boundless wilderness as the background, and feel the lightness and heaviness of your life carefully!
Dusk is coming and winter is coming.
In the evening breeze, I sang a famous poem: "If winter comes. . . "
Singing and singing, the juice of my thoughts seems to have reached the dead of winter along your roots. I don't know, when the wind blows over the willows, will there be a few green smiles on your deeply wrinkled face? !