故乡的青坟乡风是甜的,那是春天的乳汁在流淌。故乡的青坟多像母亲的乳房,香案上倒扣的旧瓷碗也像母亲的乳房;山风飘摇的老屋里唯独不见母亲,你挂在墙上的照片,已永久地留在岁月里。就像春天也是短暂的,山里的花朵还没开放,又被寒风吹去,蒲公英从一个山村飘到另一个山村。田野的薰衣草紫云烟是蓝色的,野丁香和勿忘我是苦涩的……母亲啊母亲,我多么想在你的怀抱再痛哭一场。蓝天是干净的,秋夜中的雨水也是干净的…… Hometown green grave is sweet, it is spring milk flowing. The hometown of Green Tomb is more like a mother’s breasts, fragrant case of the inverted bowl of old porcelain is like a mother’s breasts; the mountain shaky old house alone, not seen the mother, your photos hanging on the wall, has permanently remained in the years in. Just as the spring is short, the flowers in the mountains are not yet open and they are blown away by the cold wind, and dandelions float from one mountain village to another. Field of lavender purple clouds of smoke is blue, wild lilac and forget-me-not ... ... mother, mother, how I want to cry again in your arms. The blue sky is clean, the rain in the autumn is clean ...