当牧羊的长胡子爷爷甩着长鞭,当放学的孩童一路唱着欢乐的歌谣,当飞行的麻雀返回茂密的树林,当最后一抹残红藏于黑蒙蒙的山后,炊烟便以一行行诗歌的形式,开始朗诵我亲爱的故乡。炊烟升起的时候,是村子里最温暖的时光。炊烟有形状,有呼吸,有味道,也有名字和性格。炊烟是村子上空的树,有粗有细,有高有矮,有繁盛,有枯萎。炊烟的样子其实很神秘,它记载着一个家庭、一个村子的发展史。 When the shepherd’s bearded grandfather shook his whip and the children of school were singing the joyous songs all the way back, when the flying sparrow returned to the dense woods and the last hint of red was hidden in the dark mountains, Form, began reading my dear hometown. When the smoke rises, it is the warmest time in the village. Smoke has shape, breathing, taste, but also name and character. Smoke is the tree over the village, coarse and fine, high and low, there is prosperity, withered. The appearance of smoke is actually very mysterious. It records the history of the development of a family and a village.