虫子蜷伏在芹菜的根茎上。虫子一动也不动。我从北京回来,推开菜园的栅栏,我蹲下来。轻声呼喊:虫子——虫子如果我翻过这翠绿的菜园,就能看见父亲的坟墓。那里的每一只鸟都见过我父亲,都吃过我父亲种下的菜。今年的辣椒长得缓慢——悲伤影响了生长。晚饭我只吃红薯叶,小时候我也吃过。我们围坐在一起,夏天的傍晚,明月出现在山边。 The worm crouched on the rhizome of celery. Insects a motionless. I came back from Beijing and pushed the fence of the vegetable garden. I squatted down. Cry softly: bugs - insects If I turn over the green garden, you can see his father’s grave. Every bird there had seen my father and had eaten the food my father had planted. Peppers grow slowly this year - sadness has affected growth. I only eat sweet potato leaf dinner, I also eaten as a child. We sit together, the summer evening, the moon appeared on the mountain.