我躺在坡上看秋色,坡上的草安静地黄着,野草香的气息也淡下来。太阳偏西,秋阳斜照过来,我的梦被秋风吹散了。在梦里秋和我说着真心话,过掉的早晨,走过的日子,明天要到某个地方去,都印在我脑海里。秋在我眼前溜过去,又溜过来,让我觉得索然无味的日子又有了味道。我猛一抬头,西边地块的大豆好像有话说。它们挤挤挨挨拥在一起,背贴背,手挽手,相约在这里过了好多天。一个个青葱的日子里,它们饮足了早晨的头茬子阳光, I lay on the slope to see the autumn, the grass on the slope quietly yellow, the smell of weeds also light down. The west of the sun, autumn sun oblique, my dream was blown away by the autumn wind. In the dream autumn and I said the truth, over the morning, the days gone, tomorrow to go somewhere, are printed in my mind. Autumn slipped in front of me, and slipped over, let me feel the tasteless days have a taste. I looked up, the soybeans in the west block seemed to have something to say. They squeezed crowded together, back to back, arm in arm, similar here after many days. One green day, they drank the head of the morning sun,