一关于夜的记忆,是从一盏灯开始并获得质感。那一豆灯火,在童年的眸子里晃动,嵌进了记忆的墙头。在以后的岁月中,冒着随时被风衔走,被雨浇灭的危险。灯亮,灯灭。被风衔走的还有童年的歌谣,被雨浇灭的还有小小的脚印。一盏灯的背景是一栋老屋,是老屋一间灰暗的厢房。它首先从一张木桌子上亮起来,是被一双粗糙的手拨亮的。母亲坐在灯盏下缝缝补补。手,不停地来回动作,不时地将针划过头顶,落在乌黑的头发上,顺势 A memory of the night begins with a light and gets a texture. That bean light, shaking in childhood’s eyes, embedded in the memory of the wall. In the years that followed, risking being championed at any time, being put out by the rain danger. Lights, lights off. Be followed by the title of the song of childhood, rain poured out there is a small footprint. The background of a lamp is an old house, a dark room in the old house. It first lit up from a wooden table and was lifted by a pair of rough hands. Mother sitting under the lamp lantern stitching make up. Hand, kept moving back and forth, from time to time the needle across the top of the head, fell on the dark hair, homeopathic