近黄昏。田野里一脸的枯容。风来时,衰草理顺了思绪,眼望着风去的地方。风走了,麦秆裸露出骨头,零乱地躺在那里。远处,燃起一堆篝火。青烟追风而去,火也迫不及待。衰草选择了灰烬。一群羊的眼里折射出同一种光,惨白的亮。那分明是羊的眼泪。篝火灭了。牧羊人站在河边,看着水中 Near dusk. The face of the field in the wild. When the wind came, the decayed grass rationalized the thoughts and looked at the place where the wind went. As the wind was gone, the straw stalked its bones and lay there in disorder. In the distance, a bunch of bonfires ignited. Green smoke chased after the wind and the fire could not wait. Baden chose Ash. The eyes of a herd of sheep reflected the same kind of light, pale and bright. That is clearly the tears of the sheep. The fire broke out. Shepherd stands by the river and looks at the water