What I can feel is green
Green trees, green grass
Green crops
Blocking the vast fields
Becoming an obstruction in October
I want to lie in the thick green
Wrapped in the green waves
Put my My heart is also dyed green
I lie on a path surrounded by grass and crops
Listening to the breeze passing by, crickets and cicadas
Or the footsteps are approaching
These green waves will definitely lift
my little boat
high into the October sky
p>The air in October is like a pool in autumn
It is cold, and the sweat drops just emerged from the head
It was beaten back into the pores by the wind
I wielded a pickaxe to chop corn
The blade was not very sharp
I slashed at an angle and chopped off the thick stalks
But its roots were still there Connected to the soil
The weather in October is great for working
The air is cool and clean
My father followed this team through the countryside
Go to Gushan to push stones to build a house
Go to Hetao to clear wasteland and grow grain
Follow the production team and write poems in the responsibility field
Sometimes I also care about the big and small things in the village
Including who becomes the party secretary
Who becomes the village chief, who is Official integrity
Who becomes an official and enriches himself
His father is as upright as a sorghum
His mother died many years ago and he was alone
If you have a bad temper, you will yell when encountering injustice.
After his stepmother came to the house
His life changed a lot
There were more than a dozen chicks and two black and white puppies in the small yard
They grew up one after another, and the mouse-catching ones After one cat dies, another one is raised
Two pairs of fattened beef cows are slaughtered a year
Perhaps it is called a family when chickens and dogs make trouble
This is not the case for little swallows They made a nest under the eaves
A group of little sparrows flew to the big elm tree
They kept chattering, maybe commenting
Which dog is fierce and which one Niu Zhuang?
He is over 60 years old and has white hair and a hijab
Only then did he know what a veteran is.
My father has won many battles against natural disasters
It is absolutely difficult for grass people to get close to crops
A thick layer of cow dung in the ridges
Corn, potatoes, radishes, and cabbage that are growing rapidly
Each person shows his/her strengths.
It's just that the nights in the countryside are a bit lonely and desolate, otherwise my father would be comfortable in the village
Life would be just like in the city
Every time I come back from the countryside
p>
My father always gives me many things
There are round potatoes in the worm skin bag
Smooth and white corn
There are also green cabbage
And snow-white green onions
What I bring back is different every time
It depends on the permission of the season and the indulgence of the earth
Before leaving, my father always
kept tinkering behind my motorcycle
and used a rope to pull it hard
for fear of the speed of the motorcycle
p>
The vegetables and grains that have been tied up are lost
In fact, these things I brought back are not the most
The most are
The deep nostalgia accumulated in my mind, and the nostalgia condensed
Some lines of poems of varying lengths
I saw the folks
p>The autumn colors, red fruits
or yellow leaves and branches are being emptied out
The remains of these plants are loosening
p>
Transported downward along the intestinal tract of the season
Excreted behind the soil
Or at the mouth of the farmer's circle or stove
Can't get through How long will it take
A large field will be left unchecked
The flight of eyes
A new field will be exposed one after another
The ocher color of the earth Toned chest
Fields and ridges intertwined, roads criss-crossed
Telephone poles meandering under the sky conveying electrical energy
Let wheat seeds, machine shafts, accordions and karaoke OK
The style dances in the autumn colors for the first time
The wind in October is so sweet
The orchard is dark green, with red lanterns still hanging
A ladder leads to Arrived at Apple Paradise
A persimmon was poked down from a pole
The beautiful red radish looked like a pregnant woman
The bulging figure was faintly revealed
The green The leaves are trying to cover up the truth of fertility
A cloud floats over the high hills in the wilderness
Fighting to suck the breasts of the earth
The Sixth Issue of Lotus Lake
The Sun's Golden Sphere is mounted in the sky at
forty-five degrees to the southwest.
The dazzling golden light,
The peaks rising like waves in the distance,
The poplar trees on the vast fields, the greenhouses protecting the spring,
The light blue hemispherical dome,
reveals its pure true face at a glance.
Only the wind moves in the fields
My father has received a ban, and the entire village
has been closed in the small space of home by folk customs.
News of a drunk driver in a black car was revealed at the entrance of the village,
The sound of shuffling cards rose up,
The noise of playing poker overturned On the roof,
Who is watching the entire CCTV Spring Festival Gala online?
The taste of the year is constantly ruminating in the mouth of a cow.
Only the hard-working shepherds are waving their whips to beat the clear wind.
The world is so quiet, and the mood of the people in the village during the New Year is like a jar of wine getting stronger and stronger.
The air in the wild is so clear
The sunlight is repeatedly washed by the wind, and it smeared across the field ridges.
The dust on the road is so low-key, crawling under the river of wind
Only a few motes of dust danced the ballet.
I don’t know where the gods are attending the banquet not far away.
The whirlpool of the wind carries the flying leaves,
rushing forward.
I washed my ears with the cool breeze on the path
At this moment, wandering in the fields is extremely luxurious
Everyone has been intoxicated by the warm wine of the festival
Caught in the siege of tenderness
Avoid the noise, including the footsteps of the hot land,
Xiangyin has also retreated into seclusion during the festival and rested all night long
There is only one happy man who occupies the field alone, walking alone among the ridges
He looked back at the village, where six lanterns were hung on a roof beam
The dark red roof, brown The woods reveal the tenderness of the village entrance
Row after row of lanterns, shining with swaying orange
How sensational a magpie is, performing a solo dance for me in the fields
p>
For a while, it was like a naive child walking in the wheat field
Using its pointed mouth to knock the grass seeds in the soil
For a while, it poked its tail a few times and vibrated its wings. Hovering low in the sky
This free bird is now calling for friends
Let the clear calls be indulged in the clarity
I was in the small Wash your ears with the fresh breeze on the road
The whistling wind blows like a clear stream
The first layer washes away the dust on the ears
The second layer washes away Removed the accumulated earwax
The third layer washed away the noise of the mortal world
So many ancestors stood up in unison
Continue to the depths of the plain Walking alone in a poplar forest
I seemed to see so many ancestors
Suddenly stood up from the ground
They all have surnames that I am familiar with or not familiar with
Zhang Wang, Li Zhao, Hei Dan Gou Sheng
I saw their long-lost faces again
The backs of each of them
They are all engraved with words, and they have done big jobs
They have endured great hardships, sweated profusely, or made great achievements
Only when the farming work slowed down
Only then will they stand up,
Protruding, tall, and shocking
When the crops everywhere stand up
But I have never I have seen them
They plunged into the crop field
Like naughty gazi
They plunged into the water
Let the whole plain remain calm
This is a piece of farmland that I once cultivated
South of the village, a piece of land near the canal
I cut it in the drizzle A vegetable garden of leeks
A waterwheel, a large well, an overturned stone tablet
A blurry inscription rutted by wheels
In the south, a piece of land near the river The earth is a field that I braved the scorching sun to fertilize
In the yellow land as big as the sky
I am just an ink dot on the noonday of the hoeing day
In the elegance of the festival, I will use my footprints,
to kiss every piece of land I cultivate.
/p>
I suddenly remembered an eighty-year-old professor
He said: I want you to lead me
Go around the village and look at every path and ditch Kan
I said, I want your wish to come true even behind your back!
At this time, I could really hear the surging waves in his heart.
A trail and I follow each other like a shadow
The country trail is like a blue and white snake running through the forest,
The head of the snake is chasing my heels,
Followed like a shadow in the dense cornfield.
Smooth, narrow, and cramped,
Like a bright dagger,
piercing Qingzhan's chest.
The broad and slender corn leaves were slightly disturbed.
It was as if their sensitive nerves were stirred.
The high-decibel clattering screamed pain.
Crickets, cicadas and mantises formed a circle
Talking about this stiff, green insect
Childhood wishes are so small,
On the edge of the mountain, in the corner of the land,
In the endless crop fields,
flowers bloom everywhere.
Small into a curved sickle,
and a moon bud blooming in the sky,
accompanied by sweat and dew drops to go home.
Xiaocheng's father smiled slightly,
and instantly forgot about the redness and swelling on his shoulders from the thorn basket and the folds of the basket.
The strong wind is like a blind black hole
There is a tongue hidden in the hole
The tongue is covered with barbs
Like a tiger, ferocious and bloody .
It captures some prey
such as antelope, elk, hippo, orangutan
It uses its sharp tongue to pick out the bones
Let The grasslands are cold.
Rather than say that an antelope or a kangaroo
died from a tiger in nature
it would be better to say that it was a strong wind
The strong wind blew out their heart lights
The passage of time
What a terrible thing the strong wind is
Like a herd of beasts, all the beasts rushed together,
Able to blow hair white and bend the back
Blow people from morning to dusk
Blow life from the ground to the ground
All solid things cannot withstand a strong wind
Like the Qin Palace and Han Pass, the Tang Palace and the Song City
They were all blown out by the strong wind like lights
Without a trace.
Faced with the strong wind that swallowed up the dynasty without spitting out its bones
I shuddered, in the warm sun of winter,
When I encountered the misfortune of a strong wind
I always spit and say:
Go away, you unruly beast!
How chilling this cold cold must be
In the garden of People’s Square,
Some branches were stripped of their clothes by the wind
Revealing the skinny body,
Like a group of scavengers exiled by fate.
The withered yellow leaves were defeated,
Defeated by enemies from all sides, the defeated soldiers were left dead in the wilderness
I saw pieces of yellow leaves caught in the gaps between the sparse strips ,
Or, superimposed on the desolate and stiff ground.
Tourists are stingy, and for the things they once loved,
dress up the beauty of the country, and are ashamed to take out the petals of praise from the pocket of the soul
The footprints also add insult to injury
Leave a lonely andante of years on the innocent leaves
The lone goose has wandered to the south, and the clouds have been buried in the heavy fog.
Pedestrians appear on the road like schools of fish,
wandering between buildings,
The cold makes the face numb and the hands shrink
Hide Enter Nuannuan's skin, a gentle place called home,
Besieged by bubble dramas and the Internet.
Actually, I should not choose such words,
to describe the trees and branches of flowers and plants shrouded in severe frost,
to describe the scenery after late autumn,
Beautiful winter, snow-covered evening.
The posture of walking through the years,
The truth without hesitation, cut out the complex and simplify.
Marching towards spring. We huddle up for the time being,
shrinking into the chrysalis sewn by the sky.
This huge pupa has a white shell.
It has packed the village and the deer into its body cavity.
There are also mountains, rivers, trails, the surface, and Insects under the earth's surface,
We feel the vastness in the white pupae,
Feel the chill of the cold, feel the atmosphere before spring appears
Gradually I fell in love with this kind of chilling and sang it repeatedly in the cold.
Singing about the vast land of fog,
All things are deposited, meditating in the forest,
The vegetation hatches dreams, and the desolate twilight breeds longing.
The New Year ten kilometers away is full of nostalgia for returning home.
Desire is ignited by a wisp of floral fragrance from my hometown.
Mother, window grilles, lanterns Lighted up the rafters.
The road through the village
The road through the village, the winding ileum
is like a luxurious cloth
spread on The fields are full of footsteps of kittens and ducklings
and are like postmarks
conveying their thoughts of finding love
The road through the village was twisted into a thin thread by my mother
Sitting in the moonlight
Close to an electric lamp, turning each village
Ping Ping’s body is sewn into a pearl sweater that is warm in winter and cool in summer
The road through the village has been lurking in the village for many years
Like a line reaching into a calm pond
Fishing out a lot of wagging folk customs
My father is not always able to do well in the folk customs
His When the words are heard, they will always pull out the carrots and bring out the mud
Therefore, it is inevitable that some people will be red-eyed and jealous
It is still grandpa, always cheerful every day
The village road is actually a clue from his early years of fighting against Japan
A clue peeking out from the homemade land mine
If you pull it out suddenly, it will sound
p>The legend that has retreated into the corner of the house
Now, mother is sitting at the end of the village road
Listening along a path
A fish News about swimming into my hometown
I still have to be as cautious as a butterfly looking for my hometown
.
The wind in my hometown, is it going to blow again?
Too many tears overflowed my eyes
The war has subsided,
The country The dust has settled.
The shadow of October is fading away
The village is quiet and the leaves are returning home
There is only the wind in the wilderness
and the dancing leaves Dialogue with leaves
It once climbed to the high branches, grasping the stars and holding the moon
Eventually it fell down
The season waved its head
Digging up Tomb passage in winter
Some wind falling traps
Roaring at the bottom of the valley
Large areas of sadness mixed with old wine
Fermented in the old house
People who listen to the wind and rain start to talk
The road out of the village is like noodles in a pot
Lingeringly walking around from one village to another
p>
Bringing the story of migrant workers home
On a Tukang bed
The sound of the waves is as loud as the sound
Go make money, October The days to come
An idea exploded in my heart
Louder than the New Year’s firecrackers