把泥土翻出诗行,在乡村的田埂上不紧不慢地行走着的田园诗人。热爱青草的素食主义者。胃里蠕动着反刍过的干草的碎片,清香的麦秸夹着一把大豆,就是它的节日。蹲在田头或树下,默默地看风景。忘记了自己就是风景。当它起身,回眸,轻摇着尾巴,催促着四季,一步一个坚实的大脚印,踩得时光的骨骼吱吱地疼痛。 Turned the soil out of the poetic line, in the rural fields on the leisurely walking idyllic. Green grass-loving vegetarian. The mottled ruminant hay in the stomach, the smell of wheat straw sand with a soybean, is its festival. Squat in the fields or under the tree, silently watching the scenery. Forget that I am the scenery. When it got up, looking back, shaking the tail, urging the four seasons, step by step a solid big footprints, stepped on the bone squeaky time pain.