我是一粒土豆,我仍记得那个年月。当我还在黑土的被子里安睡,还是一个光腚的半大拉娃娃的时候。我的兄弟姐妹那长满裂口的十指已经插进土里,揣摩我。想用我青涩的时光去填饱他们被野菜染绿的肠胃。我已听见,苦苦菜和猪耳朵们被连根掘起,他们用苦涩去温暖那些更苦涩的日子。我听见了,他们离开土地时,那一声长长 I am a potato, I still remember that year. When I was still sleeping in the comforter of the black soil, or when I was a light, half-sized doll. My brothers and sisters, the ten fingers that had been torn apart, have been inserted into the soil and try to figure out me. Want to use my green time to fill their green vegetables are dyed stomach. I have heard that bitter vegetables and pig ears are uprooted, and they use bitterness to warm those more bitter days. I heard it, when they left the land, that one long sound