日月沉重的土街,眼见着没落了下去,土土的街筒子,低得快趴架的七零八落的房子,在周围随风随雨疯长的高楼大厦面前,陷进了城市之风的包围中,显得格外的破败和寒酸。唯有生长了百年的苦楝树仍立在原地,风雨如磐,半点不动弹、不挪窝,招呼着阳光和风声。土著的土街人,一天天稀落下去,年轻人走的走、出的出,满世界地找生活,剩下的都是七老八十的老杆子,相见时颤巍巍地招呼上一声, Heavy sun and the moon in the street, seeing the decline, the soil of the street cheese, low lying fast frame of the house, in the wind and rain around the towering buildings in front of the city caught in the wind In the siege, it is particularly dilapidated and shabby. Only grow a hundred years neem tree is still standing in place, stormy, slightest motionless, no nest, greeting the sun and the wind. Indigenous natives of the streets, day by day sparsely populated, young people go walking, out of the world to find life, and the rest are old caddies, meet each other when the towering trembling,