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我脑海中有幅图画:一片松树林边有一座小木屋,几匹牧马在悠闲地啃草,身穿花格子衬衫、牛仔裤的女郎站在门口,刚刚吻别了那高大的、长满络腮胡的、讲话细声细气的丈夫。院子里还晾晒着几件衣服。后院种的一些蔬果昨夜被野鹿吃个精光。此时还是清晨,升起的阳光透过树枝,像蜘蛛网一样覆盖着这张图画。如果我是画家,一定会将那门口的女郎画成自己。我来西部已经十年了,西部已经变为我的家,我不会离开,但始终没有找到那图画中的小木屋。我也遇到很多身材高大、长满络腮胡子的男人,却一直没有找到图画中的那位牛仔,他驾驶着一辆皮卡离开了,泥沙上还留着他车胎的痕迹。
I have a picture in my mind: a pinewood forest near a cabin, a few horses in a leisurely pasture, wearing a plaid shirt, jeans girl standing in front of just kissing do not say that tall, bearded The husband, who talks finely and carefully. There are a few clothes drying in the yard. Backyard kinds of fruits and vegetables last night was a deer to eat a fine. It was still early in the morning, when the rising sun shone through the branches and covered the picture like a spider web. If I am a painter, I will draw the girl at my door as myself. It has been ten years since I came to the west, and the west has become my home. I will not leave but I have never found the cabin in the picture. I also met a lot of tall, bearded man, but has not found the picture of the cowboy, he left with a pickup truck driving in the sand still traces of his car tires.