除了一点点的无名小花，没有别的礼节迎接春天了。除了一丝丝泥香，没有什么可以让人留念。春天说来就来，来的时候就有人燃起火把，为早行的种子照亮道路，就有人唱着一种厚厚的吆喝，颂扬第一行布进田里的脚印。没有太多的喧哗，静静地，小河的流水，妇人的目光，还有那半闭 In addition to a little bit of unknown flowers, there is no other courtesy to welcome the spring. In addition to a trace of mud, there is nothing to make people remember. Spring comes, and when someone comes to light the torch and illuminates the road for the early seeds, someone sang a thick shout, celebrating the first line of cloth into the field. Not too much noise, quietly, stream water, the woman’s eyes, and that half-closed