浑圆的夕阳像一只大鸟,安安静静地停在葱绿的老桦树的一根树枝上,红红的,篮球大小,从里透着光亮,有点像腌透了的咸鸭蛋蛋黄。我坐在田埂上,眼睛眨都不眨地看着太阳。一整天只有这时候的太阳能直视,光润润的,一点不刺眼。我妈那回撇着嘴说,红配绿,丑得哭。她要是看到这番景象,准保会改口说,红配绿,美得哭。小腿上沾满稀泥的表叔从刚耕好的田里走上来,一手握着鞭子,另一只手把拴在牛鼻子上的缰绳递给我。 A round sunset like a big bird, quietly parked in a lush green birch tree branches, red, basketball size, bright light from the inside, a bit like marinated salted duck egg yolk. I sat on the ridge, eyes blinking at the sun. Only this time of the day, the sun looks straight, light and moist, not dazzling. My mom said that time back with a red mouth, red with green, ugly cry. If she saw this spectacle, Quasi Council would change to say, red with green, the United States were crying. The uncle covered with mud slipped up from the plowed field and held the whip in one hand and the bridle to the nose of the ox in the other hand.