入夜,初夏的雨,煽情地敲击着窗棂。我在客厅阳台的一株幸福树下,温一壶香茗,慢慢翻阅诗集《卓玛吉的风铃》。目光穿梭在字里行间,心绪完全地浸润在诗人文字编制的世界里。一粒乡愁的种子,滑落在川西北高原,种在诗人的生命里;一颗诗意的女儿心,在草原放飞,在川西北高原的月下抒情,在阳光下歌唱。高原草地的风吹铃动中,诗人遇见了自己,遇见了自己种下的诗意,而我,在宽阔细腻的诗行中遇见了美丽的诗人。 Night, early summer rain, sensational percussion window. I am a happy tree in the living room balcony tree, a pot of warm tea, slowly read the poetry collection “Zhuoma Magi Campanula.” Eyes shuttling between the lines, mood completely infiltrated in the world of poet writing. A nostalgic seed slides over the plateau in the northwestern Sichuan and grows in the poet’s life. A poetic daughter heart, flying in the prairie, lyrical in the moonlight in the northwestern Sichuan Plateau and singing in the sunshine. In the meantime, the poet met him and met the poetry he planted. And I met the beautiful poet in the wide and delicate poetic line.