十多年前,我在大山深处一所初中任毕业班班主任。学校里三间简陋的砖瓦房是教室,那一排低矮的宿舍兼办公室呢,据说在大集体时就是一个养猪场,墙壁早已斑驳,要是遇上雨天,房中便到处唱起了“泉水叮咚响”。 More than a decade ago, I was a graduate of a junior high school in the depths of the mountains. The three simple brick houses in the school are classrooms. The row of low-dormitories and offices is said to be a pig farm in a large group. The walls are already mottled. If it rains, the room will sing everywhere. “Spring water buzzes.”