满洲里夜色飞机驾驭着白云缓缓降落,透过舷窗我看到明月悄然升起在黄昏,落日血红的红晕溅湿了茫茫的大草原。白色的蒙古包在残阳中尤显突兀和挺拔,仿佛一盏盏似明似暗的灯光飘曳。脚下就是广袤的草原,秋风穿透我的短衫,京城的热潮早已荡然脑后,人们尽 Manchuria night plane to control the clouds slowly landing through the porthole, I saw the moon rising quietly at dusk, sunset blood red splash splashing the vast prairie. The white yurts are especially awkward and upright in the setting sun, as if a light like a dim light slipping away. At the foot of the vast grassland, autumn wind penetrate my shirt, the capital boom has long been gone, people do