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一春分那天,青砖黑瓦的祝家祠堂门口,聚集了百多号村民。人群中有男有女,有老有少;有的衣着体面,有的邋里邋遢;大家或站或蹲,或指手划脚,或老成庄重;或两个成一伙,或三个聚一群;有叽叽喳喳咬着耳朵,一边说俏皮话,一边用眼角逡巡挂钩干部的动静;有吵吵嚷嚷、口吐污言望天骂,大有天不怕地不怕,除了爹娘我怕谁的气概;也有人苦笑着,讲述迁移的好处,但他立马遭到大家的白眼和孤立;更有一些人望着飞檐翘角的祠堂叹气,满眼都是不舍。
A vernal equinox day, brick black tiles wish home ancestral hall entrance, gathered more than 100 villagers. There are men and women in the crowd, there are old and young; some clothing decent, some 邋 邋 邋 遢; everybody standing or squatting, or finger-pointing, or old solemn; or two into a group, or three together ; There is twitter biting his ears, while saying playful words, while using the corner of his eye to observe the movement of the cadre; there are noisy, vomit smear abuse, fearless, in addition to my dad who I’m afraid of style; also some people Wry smile about the benefits of migration, but he was immediately everyone’s look and isolation; more some people looking at the cornices Qiaotang sighed, eyeful are dismay.