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在我崇拜的花中,开得既肥硕又金黄的南瓜花,摇曳在赭色的晚风里,像顽童撑开的一把把小伞,美丽至极。小时候,坐在南瓜地里,阔叶下躲满了那种小鼓一样的瓜凳子。记得坐在瓜上尿尿的快乐,那是自己放出的山泉,在瓜上流淌。那些逆流中的小蚂蚁,真是一群出色的水手。我那姥姥在另一片南瓜地里,从南瓜花里挑选一些更美丽的花朵,给我的干爹制作耳坠。这些被摘除的花朵叫谎花,是那些坐果的花朵的伴娘,是那些蜜蜂小憩的花花房子。没有谎花的瓜地,没有风采;没有谎花的生活,哪有情趣。实实在在的说,在乡下的田野,人们注重的是花的生育功能。那些在城里打工的亲人们,疲倦地露宿在清风掠过的街头巷尾,那些御热的风景,来自玫
Among the flowers I worship are the plump and golden pumpkin flowers that sway in the ocher evening breeze and the beautiful umbrella like a puck propped up. As a kid, sitting in the pumpkin ground, hiding under the broad leaves that kind of bongos melon stool. I remember sitting on the melon pee happy, that is their release of the spring, flowing in the melon. Those ants in the counter-current are really good sailors. My grandma, in another pumpkin field, picked some of the more beautiful flowers from the pumpkin flowers and made earrings for my godfather. These removed flowers are called the lilies, the bridesmaids of those who set flowers, and the flower houses where the bees rest. There is no lie of the melon, no style; no lie of life, how can there be fun. Practically speaking, people pay more attention to the reproductive functions of flowers in the countryside. Those who work in the city’s relatives, tired sleep in the breeze passing streets and lanes, those hot landscapes, from the rose