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一繁花不再。草原枯黄。转场的哈萨克牧人赶走羊群,也赶走了炊烟。群山,原野,静默地站在秋天温和的阳光里。终于安静下来了,这沸腾的人间。用不着遥望,抬起头就可以看见山巅闪着银光的皑皑冰雪,冰雪之上,是苍蓝苍蓝的天空,没有一朵云彩飘过的天空。走在暖暖的阳光里,我的目光,随着这仁慈的阳光缓缓抚摸着空旷的大地和沉寂的雪山。无所不在。无可救药地,我热爱着这原始的宁静,属于原野的世袭的宁静。旷野的风,迎面吹来,穿过我身体里的忧伤,向后退去。
A flower is no longer. Prairie yellow. The transitional Kazakh herdsmen rid their flocks and smoke away. Mountains, fields, quietly standing in the mild autumn sunshine. Finally quiet, this boiling world. Needless to look at, looked up you can see the snow-capped mountains flashing snow and ice, the sky is blue and dark blue sky, there is no cloud drifting sky. Walking in the warm sunshine, my eyes, with this kind of sunshine slowly stroking the open land and the quiet snow-capped mountains. omnipresent. Hopelessly, I love this primitive serenity, belonging to the hereditary tranquility of the wilderness. The wind of the wilderness blew in on the face, passing through the sadness in my body and receding backward.