一、田野冬天的田野,呼应了一个沉思者内心的空旷、缄默和浑然无告……一个在闭塞之地开始尝试飞翔的人,我更愿意把他看作是一个不断把滑翔的高度降低的人。一个卖油郎的儿子,手中拽着一只红纸扎的风筝,在这片丘陵地的田野上奔跑,他的瘪小的身子,像一只蜂鸟,传递着一种远离课本的乐趣,他的“欧欧”的叫声,经常出现在一个傍晚。我那时已在乡间呆了几个年头了。我经常在一间山头的屋中沉睡至午后,火盆里烧着木炭火,贴着裂缝的墙壁垂下的灯泡一直亮着,但不耀眼,勉强可以把桌上 First, the fields The winter fields echoed the openness, silence and silence of a meditator ... One who tried to fly in the blockade, I prefer to see him as a constant reduction in the height of gliding people. A son of Selangor, holding a red kite tied in his hand and running in the hilly fields, his deflated body, like a hummingbird, carries a pleasure away from the textbook. He The “Europe ” sounds, often appear in an evening. I was in the country for a few years now. I often slept in the midst of a hill house till noon, with a charcoal fire in the brazier and a light bulb hanging from the cracked wall all the time, but not dazzling, barely able to turn the table