小时候,我算不上一个很有天分的孩子。我读诗人作家们的自述,最羡慕那些三岁吟诗、五岁作文、七八岁就在报刊上神姿英发的经历。我六岁半之前被父母放养在外婆家,不认得一个字。我妈匆匆将我接回老家罗岭,准备上学。我站在老师面前,老师手里拿着十支粉笔,叫我数,可我每次 As a kid, I am not a very talented child. I read poetic writers’ self-reports, most envious of those three-year-old poems, five-year-old essay, seven or eight years old in the press magical heroic experience. I was stocked by my parents in my grandmother before I was six and a half years old and did not recognize one word. My mom hurriedly took me back home Luo Ling, ready to go to school. I stood in front of the teacher, the teacher holding ten chalk in my hand, called me, but I each time