“青石板,石板青,青石板上钉银钉……”早已记不清儿时琅琅上口的歌谣,早已遗落了那段踏着青石板往来欢笑的悠悠岁月。村庄里再难找到铺着青石板漏着夜雨余滴的小巷,我也再难 “Green stone, stone green, black stone on the silver nail ... ...” Has long been remembered as a catchy ballad childhood, has long left behind that period of Qingshi Banded laughter long years. Difficult to find in the village covered with quartzite drip rain dripping alley, I am no longer difficult