当黑暗擦亮一根火柴,父亲便卸下一身尘土和风烟,享受着一个人的夜晚。不可消除汗味和酸痛的夜晚;太阳隐没,大山倾斜,河水困倦,星光寂寞燃烧的夜晚。空阔的夜,流淌着那些阳光下水滴般的回忆——站在水田,父亲的汗珠在微寒的水面漾开细细的波纹,他孑然的影子埋入泥土,和牛的身影连成一条缓缓移动的生命线。在拭汗的当儿,一支卷烟暂时缓解了他的焦虑和担心,只剩下一种甜滋滋的香气,在眼前萦绕。他嗫嚅了几下,但没有说什么,只轻轻地抬头看了一眼西 When the darkness polishes a match, my father unloads the dust and the wind and smoke, enjoying one’s night. Can not eliminate the night sweat and soreness; sun hidden, mountain slopes, river drowsiness, star lonely burning night. Empty night, flowing with those memories of the sun-like water droplets - standing in the paddy field, his father’s sweat in the slightly cold surface Yang rippling fine ripples, his solitude shadow buried in the earth, and the figure of the cattle into a Slowly moving lifeline. At the moment of wiping sweat, a cigarette temporarily relieves his anxiety and worry, leaving only a scent of sweetness lingering in front of him. He staggered a few times, but did not say anything, just looked up and looked at the West gently