有人说,选择了文学,就得守住最后的清贫。在这个不甘清贫与寂寞的年代,农民作家守住的,是生活的恬淡与心灵的安然,这是这个时代最珍贵的东西……他们是普普通通的农民,用汗水耕耘,用文字唱歌,锄头、田野、柴火、油盐,都是他们奏乐的音符。从指尖流淌过的散发着泥土气息的文字,汇成一曲曲清新的乡间小调,汇成对生活的热爱,这种热爱,在山间,在田野,在心头。 Some people say that the choice of literature, we must hold the final poverty. In this era of unwilling poverty and loneliness, peasant writers hold the tranquility of life and the peace of mind, which are the most precious things of this era ... They are common peasants who work hard with sweat, sing in words and hoes Fields, firewood, oil, are all the notes they play. From the fingertips flowing earth exudes the text exudes a merger into a fresh country minor, merged into the love of life, this love, in the mountains, in the field, in my heart.