对于河流,最美不过秋天了。在以往的岁月,这河似乎流淌在我童年的记忆里,又好像流淌在我寻求人生真谛的远方,我所能感知的,仅仅是一种表层、一种现象、一种外在。当时光爬过秋天的山梁,天空便渐渐地高远了起来,湛蓝地衬托蓝天和白云,一望无际的大地开始呈现出金黄,沉甸甸的谷物被水缓缓推动着,一晃一晃地仿佛催生一场梦。 For the river, but the most beautiful autumn. In the past years, this river seems to flow in my childhood memory, and seems to be flowing in the distance from where I seek the true meaning of life. All I can sense is a surface, a phenomenon, an external. At that time, climbed the mountain ridge in autumn, and the sky was gradually lofty. The blue sky and the white clouds set off a blue sky. The vast expanse of the earth began to show golden. The heavy cereals were slowly pushed by the water. It seemed as if a dream was flickering.