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用散文诗的语言,安静快乐地书写大自然。1你总蜷缩着,胆怯地抚摸阳光!时光,却在你的指尖滑落,破碎过程中,犹如错开季节的腊梅,在寒冬里孤芳自赏。守着山坳,你以一个坡度为荣,在一锅旱烟里点种寂寞。关于村庄,你用花的色彩描述,在嘴角边璀璨了三世,至今尚未凋谢。我溯水而上,淌过那年你的河流,在树根中破译你的脚步,攀着一根藤条,在青蔓中荡过婆娑树影。你在一滴露水诞生的过程,让一
In the language of prose poetry, quiet and happy to write about nature. 1 You always curled up, timidly stroking the sunshine! Time, but your fingertips fall, broken process, like staggered season of sweet plum, in the cold winter solitude. Guarding the col, you are proud of a slope, in a pot of dry smoke point lonely. About the village, you use flower color description, in the corner of the mouth of a bright three, has not yet withered. I traced back to the water, drifting past your river that year, deciphering your steps in the roots of the tree, climbing a rattan, and swirling in the green vine. You are in the process of a drop of dew birth, let one