村头那几棵树秃顶的时候,我知道秋天已经被风吹过了。我想接下来的是下雪,然后接下来的是一村的树的沉寂。鸟驮走一个冬天的童话,把那些树根留在村庄上。看着那些树,这个秋天被压弯了的梦想仿佛陡然站直了。这样,我一眼看到了自己的房子。透过那些站直的树,就能晓得风从哪个方向来,又刮向比这还远 When the trees in the village were bald, I knew that the autumn had already been blown by the wind. I think the next thing is snow, and then the silence of the tree in the village. The bird walks a winter fairy tale and leaves those roots in the village. Looking at the trees, the dream of being bent this autumn seems to have suddenly stood upright. In this way, I saw my own house at a glance. Through those trees that stand straight, you can know where the wind comes from, and scrape it farther than this.