收割完稻谷的云,载着绚丽的谷场和火焰,在天边燃烧。隔着那浅绿色的溪流,和柔韧的白桦林。我,在守望中将看到南方轰隆隆的响声中,拖拉机满载而归,父亲坐在那高高的草垛上,抽着烟,面带笑意,望着那犁刀和流火在田地里留下黝黑的条纹。也许冬季未来临时,他将在那里种下年轻的麦子, After harvesting the cloud of rice, it carries a beautiful valley and a flame and burns in the sky. There is a light green stream and a flexible birch forest. I, in Watch Watch, see the rumbling sound of the South, and the tractor is full of money. The father sits on the high haystacks, smoking a cigarette, smiling, looking at the coulters and the rushing fire and leaving behind in the fields. Dark stripes. Maybe in the coming winter, he will plant young wheat there.