背着家乡行走的人,肯定也背着家乡苦苦的悲经。走过一座山,又一座山,仍走在城市的季节之外。仍然要走,走出的路太远。涉过一条河,又一条河,在另一个不能抵达的世界反反复复地搓洗。不能回头,回头的路太痛。一页撕去,日子空了;一本撕去,年份空了。故乡的月,圆了缺,明了暗,多年以后,曾经窗明几净的老屋只能储存风,储存雨, Carrying the people walking in his hometown, certainly carrying the bitter sadness of his hometown. Walking through a mountain, another mountain, still walking outside the city’s seasons. Still have to go, out of the way too far. Involved in a river, another river, in another can not arrive in the world scrub repeatedly. Can not look back, too painful way back. Torn one page, days empty; a tear, the year empty. The hometown of the moon, a round of missing, bright and dark, years later, the old house was only a window to store the wind, store rain,