我似乎很难适应城市的生活。因为我的灵魂早已种植在乡村的田野上了,它歌颂我的山坡、田野和庄稼,歌颂井台上的辘轳和池塘里的小鱼儿。我铭记着麦子怎样播种,大豆怎样收获,红薯怎样冬藏,和那土地的味道,树木的气息,还有那麦秸垛里甜甜的香味在我心里,乡村是城市的母亲,是包容了一切艰辛灾难和痛苦泪水的仁爱慈祥的母亲。我时常怀念镰刀、锄头和拉犁的黄牛,怀念篱笆、小院和袅袅的炊烟,怀念山头上湛蓝的天空和田园间清凌的小河,怀 I seem difficult to adapt to city life. Because my soul has long been planted in rural fields, it celebrates my hillsides, fields and crops, praises the pots and lanterns on the platform and the little fish in the pond. I remembered how the wheat was planted, how the soybean was harvested, how the winter sweet potatoes were preserved, the flavor of the land, the breath of trees, and the sweet scent of that straw in my heart. The countryside was the city’s mother and everything was contained. The benevolent kind mother of hardships and painful tears. I often miss the sickle, hoe and plow ox, miss the fence, small courtyard and the curl of smoke, miss the blue sky on the hill and idyllic Qingling Creek, pregnant