一风语有痕。不知是从哪年哪月起?谁,给这一脉漠漠的关山取下了一个名字:刮风梁子。名副其实。日复一日、年复一年,“刮风梁子”的风,挣开喉咙放声狂吼大风歌。一吼十年、百年,吼得日子精疲力竭,气喘吁吁……风,狂悍凛冽,癫狂满梁子荒草萋萋的长发迎风乱舞。我无法知道,那曾经满梁子茂盛的森森林木怎么会被风“剃”了光头?绿,被风刮走,剩下枯黄的厚重。风,阴冷挟雨,迷糊得那一条面目不清的山路蒙蒙眬眬。 Sense of a trace. I do not know from which year from? Who, to this pulse off the mountains off a name: Windy Leung. Veritable. Day after day, year after year, “Windy Leung ” wind, earn a throat roar wind song. A roar of ten years, a hundred years, roar in the sun exhausted, panting ... ... wind, crazy tough, full of madness lingering long grassland wild wind Flurry. I can not know how the forests and forests that once filled the Liangzi would be bald and shaved off by the wind and left the yellowish thickness. Wind, cold reluctantly rain, confused that a blurred face of the mountain misty.