八月的太阳烤得莲让汗水浸透了全身。已经两年多没回家了。多想早点看到被柴米油盐染白了发的爸妈。路还是那条路。路旁那块大石头是当年从学校回家,大伙歇脚的地方;那棵杨梅树从来只长茂盛的叶子,却不见它结过果子。一切都那样熟悉。山路依然崎岖。“爸,妈,我回来了。”“是莲儿回来了?”妈正切着猪 The sun baked in August soaked sweat soaked body. Have not been home for more than two years. More to want to see earlier dyed by the Pimlico fat parents. Road or that road. That big stone on the roadside was the place to go home from school at that year, and everyone had a rest; the red bayberry tree had always been long and lush leaves, but it was not seen to bear fruit. Everything is so familiar. Mountain road is still rugged. “Dad, Mom, I’m back.” “Is Linger coming back?” Mom is cutting the pig