一我站在城市的规则里,打量城市以外,我看见我唯一的一滴血,天幕下沉睡着悲伤的草垛,草垛与草垛之间,隔着几只鸟的距离,几个人的距离,几间泥巴屋的距离,我听到了它们的呼吸,像初生的婴儿的呼吸一样,在夜色里静默,安详。草虫歌唱,我挥舞着镰刀,割下高高的水稻、高粱和玉米。我的镰刀闪着古剑一样的光芒,和我的情绪一起飞舞,没有声音,像一条暗河奔流。就如当年那个长着大胡子的史特劳斯那样,让一条流经十个国家的河 As soon as I stood in the rules of the city and looked beyond the city, I saw my only drop of blood, the sadness of the haystacks, the distance between haystacks and haystacks, the distance of a few birds, the distance of several people , The distance between a few mud house, I heard their breath, like a newborn baby’s breath, silent, serene in the night. Grasshoppers singing, I waving a sickle, cut off high rice, sorghum and corn. My sickle glittered like an ancient sword, flying with my emotions, without sound, flowing like a dark river. Just like the bearded Strauss of the year, a river that flows through ten countries