2004年8月1日,我凝望策克边界线上那块鲜红的界碑:“中国572”,深深地感动着。界碑头顶炎炎烈日,静静伫立在坚硬而粗糙的茫茫戈壁滩上,庄严、肃穆。是的,除了庄严、肃穆,还有什么能形容我此时的心境呢?这庄严肃穆的气氛,不是来自苍穹下偶尔孤鸟的飞鸣,也无关身后绵延不绝的铁丝网的威慑力,而是因为面对中华人民共和国的国门,使得长条形的石头上“中国”两个字在国徽的映衬下变得太沉太重太醒目,让我不由自主地轻触它鲜红耀眼的字体,在一横一竖中慢慢融入我的脉搏我的心跳和我的呼吸。 On August 1, 2004, I stared at the bright red landmark of the Ceke border line: “China 572”, deeply moved. Boundary scorching hot sun, quietly standing in the vast and rough Gobi desert, solemn, solemn. Yes, except solemn, solemn, what else can describe my state of mind at this time? This solemn atmosphere, not from the occasional solitary birds flying under the sky, nor the deterrent force behind the endless wire fence Because in the face of the national front of the People’s Republic of China, the word “China” on the bar-shaped stone became so heavy and too eye-catching as against the national emblem that I could not help but touch its bright red dazzling font One by one in the vertical slowly into my pulse my heartbeat and my breath.