你,你叫什么花?你长在我少年的记忆中。天地洪荒茫茫,记忆中的花居然只有这一种。长在道路两边,长在坟地,长在垃圾边,长在不为人知的任何一个角落。从来不是人工所种。野生的你,具有天生的抗击打能力。你这样散落,甚至有些随意,甚至有些太落拓的开花结果。你的花也贱。粉艳艳,白灿灿。胖,而且带着稍微庸俗的表情——你哪有莲的清高,你哪有梅的孤傲,你哪有菊的傲慢,你哪有兰的清幽……甚至,你不如玫瑰,不如月季,不如牡丹,不如任何一种画家或 You, what is your name flower? You grow in my youth memory. Prehistoric vast world, the memory of flowers actually only this one. Long on both sides of the road, long in the cemetery, long rubbish, in any unknown corner. It has never been artificial. Wild you, with natural ability to fight against. You are so scattered, and even some random, and even some too stubborn flowering results. Your flowers are cheap. Pink Yan Yan, white Cancan. Fat, and with a slightly vulgar look - how can you have lotus lofty, how can you have plum loneliness, how can you have the arrogance of chrysanthemum, how can you have blue orchids ... even you are not as good as roses, not as roses Peony, not as good as any kind of painter or