昨夜,我又梦到了故乡,那些早已坍塌的土坯房,在梦中依然伫立,那么清晰;那些绕着村庄,弯弯曲曲的羊肠小道上,留下了多少欢声笑语和奔跑的模样。池塘里,蝌蚪游来游去,隐隐约约可以看见几条小鱼;青蛙喊得欢天喜地,忘却了草丛里长蛇的觊觎;泥洞里,蛤蟆叫得闷声闷气,懒懒的,一不小心被捉了去;瓜地里,瓜儿又大又圆,小伙伴们忍不住偷偷跑去,却被看瓜人追得哭天喊地;树上的鸟儿,欢 Last night, I dreamed of my hometown again. Those adobe houses that had long been collapsed still remained clear and clear in my dreams. How many laughter and running patterns left me in the winding, tortuous path around the village. In the pond, the tadpoles swim to and faintly can see a few small fish; The frog shouts delightfully, has forgotten the long snake in the grass; The mud hole, the frog is bored Carefully caught to go; Guadalupe, Guar children big and round, small partners who could not help but secretly ran, but was seen melon chasing cried cried; tree birds, Huan