多年以后,当我站在灯火闪烁,夜风习习的珠江边,遥望着远处不停变幻的色彩迷离的“小蛮腰”婀娜多姿身影的时候,记忆把我拉回那个哈出白气的严冬的早晨,码在稻场的草垛上铺满了厚厚的一层寒霜。当我被父亲从热被窝里叫起来的时候,屋外的天与我一样,还处于朦胧的浓睡之中,透过屋顶上的亮瓦,也只是些蒙蒙的灰光。父亲把我叫起床,硬生 Years later, when I stood on the banks of the Pearl River where the lights shone and the breeze was practiced, looking back and forth in a changing color blurred in the distance, the memory of me pulled back the white gas The harsh winter morning, yards in the rice field haystack covered with a thick layer of frost. When I was called by my dad from the hot blanket, the sky outside the house was just like me, still in the darkness of sleepiness. It was only a little gray through the bright tiles on the roof. Father called me up, abruptly