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苞谷的姿势黄色,这是肯定的。长在秸秆上,你直刺蓝天;像刀枪、像剑戟?你只是一株玉米。挂在屋檐,与同伴相拥,展示黄色的姿势;连接天地,举起黄色的火焰,照亮生命。堆在房顶,横卧生活,想象牛和犁的诗意。庄稼汉子的方言生动,锄与草对话。你在逼人的翠绿中找到黄,那是属于你的颜色你的姿势,属于你根深叶茂的传奇。在老婆婆手里,黄色的颗粒坠落成星,在天河,互相碰撞、嬉戏,月亮抿着嘴偷笑。老婆婆笑开没牙的嘴,你跌进去,辉煌日子。故土上,你的姿势深得人心。
Baogu posture yellow, this is for sure. Growing in the straw, you pierce the blue sky; like a knife and sword, like a sword-shaped halberd? You’re just a corn. Hanging on the eaves, embracing with peers, showing a yellow pose; connecting heaven and earth, raising a yellow flame, illuminating life. Heap on the roof, recumbent life, imagine the poetic poem and plow. Dialect of crop man vivid, hoe dialogue with the grass. You find the yellow in the pressing green, that belongs to your color your posture belongs to your deep-rooted legend. In the hands of the old lady, the yellow particles fall into a star, collide with each other in the Milky Way, playfully and the moon pouted. Granny laughs toothless mouth, you fall into, brilliant day. Homeland, your posture won hearts and minds.