断墙这还是一个村吗?没有炊烟,没有犬吠,没有鸡鸣,更没有晒在太阳下的衣被……我知道这一切于村子的意义,炊烟的飘升比起一炷香的点燃更加丰富,至于一个村庄,那是活着的祈祷,至于一个家又是充饥的感恩,至于一个家族则是繁衍的祈望。鸡鸣犹如晨钟,犬吠则像敲响警醒的木鱼,衣被中没有褪尽的汗息,隐隐约约能透着村子的气息。可如今在这个村子这一切都消失了,找不到这些活灵活现意义的村子,还是村子吗?座座断墙,断了遮风挡雨围筑成家的夙 Is this a village or a broken wall? There is no smoke, no bark, no cocks, no clothes under the sun ... I know all this in the meaning of the village. Rich, as for a village, it is living prayer, as for a home is full of gratitude, as for a family is the breeding hope. Crowing is like a morning bell, bark is like wake-up wooden fish, clothing did not fade sweat, vaguely reveals the atmosphere of the village. But now in the village all this disappeared, can not find these vivid meaning of the village, or the village it? Block off the wall, cut off the wind and rain surrounding the home 的 夙