扇子扇凉风,骑马过桥东。有人来问我,我是某某家的大相公。——民谣一我是否还能唱着歌回家呢?我只能默默地前行,不再左顾右盼,不再昂首挺胸,一边走一边神经质地回头张望。我对自己这种猥琐得有些彻头彻尾的举动极为不满,但总是无法控制地频频回头。我知道这并不是因为我在行进途中是否丢失了什么,或者害怕后面会有什么居心叵测的跟踪,这种无意间的举动,这完全是我对已然终结的事疑虑重重,对眼面将要发生的事毫无信心所至。古印地安人有一句谚语,大意是说,脚步走得太快,要当心灵魂是否能跟上。也许就是这样走走停停,不时地回头张望,才是最适度的步幅。沿着坎坷不平的河堤,跨过破折号一样的小木桥,便可抵达村庄,抵达我曾逗留过的老 Fan fan breeze, riding Qiaodong. Someone to ask me, I am a certain man’s big brother. - I can sing folk songs back home? I can only quietly move forward, no longer looked around, no longer stand tall and proud, while walking back nervously look around. I am very dissatisfied with this kind of wretchedness that I have done in a down-to-earth manner, but I often come back endlessly uncontrollably. I know it is not because I lost anything while I was on the move or because I was afraid of any inattentive follow-up. This inadvertent act is entirely my suspicion of what has come to an end and to the eye. There is no faith in everything. Old Indians have a proverb to the effect that the pace of walking too fast, beware of the soul can keep up. Perhaps this is the way to stop, look back from time to time, is the most appropriate pace. Walk along the bumpy embankment across the dash-like bridge to the village to the old I’ve stayed in