一面坡上,一个影子依稀可辨。一头牛,一架犁,一个人,在山影间起伏。远远望去,就像一面在海上涌动的船帆。那是哥。他在伺候月婆子一样伺候他的土地。哥打着一双赤脚,头时而埋下,时而抬起,双手用力按住犁柄。在低一声高一声的吆喝里,牛向前走,犁往土里进,泥块子一溜一溜地翻耕过来,倒成一条直线。犁铧亮闪闪的,新耕的泥块子也亮闪闪的,还看得到从犁铧上拓印出来的道道纹路。湿热的地气,从新耕的泥块子上冒出来,丝 Slope, a shadow can be discerned. A cow, a plow, a man, ups and downs in the shadow of the mountains. From afar, like a boat surging on the sea. That is brother. He waited on his land as a waitress. Brother with a pair of barefoot, head and sometimes buried, sometimes raised, his hands firmly hold the plow handle. As soon as the whispered cry shouted, the cattle walked forward and plowed it into the soil, and the lumps slipped and slipped into a straight line. Plowshares brightly lit, the newly cultivated mud lumps also sparkling, but also from the ploughshare to see the print out of the road lines. Hot and humid to the gas, emerging from the new tillable mud, silk