山道弯弯,细雨蒙蒙,背着书包,撑起那顶沉沉的油布伞,你上学了。用那稚气很浓的童音,你说,你是山乡的妹子,像常生在地头的那种带刺边的野菜,你眷恋这温馨的黑土,喜欢这迷 The mountain road is curved, raining, carrying a schoolbag, holding up the heavy tarpaulin umbrella, and you go to school. With the childish sound of childishness, you said, you are the sister of Shanxiang, like the kind of wild vegetables that are often born in the ground, you love the warm black soil and like this fan.