1我对母亲的思念,多像家乡的亚布力烟叶啊。岁月的体温日复一日将那些烟叶渐渐烘干。由苍绿转至暖黄。那烟叶青青时,反而无味儿。烘干后,苍绿时的筋脉清晰可辨。卷成纸烟吸上一口,那酽酽的香味儿啊,夹杂着淡淡的苦味儿和辣味儿。我年复一年的把思念丢在风里了。还有那些迎风飞舞的凌乱的头发。还有那些苍绿色和暖黄色的衫子。在桂花盛开的时候。 1 I miss my mother, much like home Yabuli tobacco ah. Years of body temperature gradually drying those leaves. From pale green to warm yellow. That green leaves, but tasteless children. After drying, green veins when clearly visible. Cigarette rolled into a cigarette, the smell of the child, ah, mixed with a touch of bitter taste and spicy children. I miss my thoughts year after year in the wind. There are messy hair flying in the wind. There are those pale green and warm yellow shirt. When sweet-scented osmanthus in full bloom.