一条被石子儿铺了一遍又一遍的渣子路,横躺在清晨的寂静中,路两边是因放的时间太长而略微发黑的干草垛。听着一家接一家的鸡鸣声响起,那背筐的老人走到草垛旁,拾掇一筐干草当柴火,一会儿,袅袅轻烟升起,那烟映着泛白的天幕拢着微露的阳光曼舞。轻烟牵着光行走在冒着热气的草房子上,搂着光漫步在飘着碎冰片儿的河道上。耀眼的河道像用金丝织成的毯子,等待童话世界里离家的公主。河道边是一块 A piece of slag road that was covered with stones again and again lay in the stillness of the early morning, with the haystack slightly black on the sides of the road for too long. Listening to the crowing of crowds one by one, the old man with the basket went to the haystack, picked up a basket of hay, and when the fire rose, curled up with light smoke, Sunshine Man dance. Light smoke holding the light walking in the steaming grass house, arms around the light floating in the Borneo children’s river. Dazzling river like a blanket woven into gold, waiting for the princess away from home in the fairy tale world. The river side is a piece