在大雪飞落的冬季,烤火成为一个甜美的词。 人们出去、进来,仿佛是为了接近烤火而做一些准备。 烤火的姿势最美。伸出手,把手心与动荡的红焰相对。你 发现手像一个孩子,静静倾听火所讲述的故事。 我爱看烤火的手,朴实而温厚,所有在劳动中积攒的歌 声,慢慢融化在火里。抓不住岁月的鸟翼,在掌心留下几条 纹,被火照亮,像羽毛一样清晰。 烤火的男人,彼此之间像兄弟。肩膀靠着肩膀,脸膛红彤 彤的,皱纹远远躲在笑容的阴影后面。用这样的姿势所怀抱 In the winter of heavy snowfall, roasted fire becomes a sweet word. People go out and come in, as if to prepare for getting close to roasting fire. Roasted fire posture the most beautiful. Reach out, the palm of your hand and turmoil against the red flame. You find your hand like a child, listening quietly to the story told by the fire. I love to see the hands of roasted fire, simple and warm, all the songs accumulated in work, and slowly melt in the fire. Can not grasp the years of the bird wing, leaving a few stripes in the palm, was illuminated by fire, as clear as feathers. Roasted fire men, like brothers between each other. Shoulder shoulders, glowing red face, wrinkles far behind the shadow of a smile. Embrace this posture