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40年前的夏天,我下放乡村,与老农一起参加“双抢”劳动。夕阳西下,终于盼到了“收工了”的哨声。我一手拿着镰刀,一手捶着腰,脱去厚布衣服,头戴草帽、拖着浑身像散了架似的身子,走过稻叶飘香的田间小道,一望无际的田野尽在眼中。那休耕的稻田里,被太阳暴晒成龟裂的土地,只留下一片片光秃秃的稻根,金黄色的稻捆,像一座座排列整齐蓬帐似的堆满了田野,沿着那条小道往田野尽头、烟雾缭绕的村口走去……
In the summer of 40 years ago, I decentralized the countryside and participated in “double grab” labor with the farmer. Sunset, finally looking forward to “closed work ” whistle. I took a sickle in my one hand, my hand on my waist, my thick cloth, my straw hat, and my body like a scattered frame. I walked through the fields with the fragrant rice paddy fields and looked into the endless fields. In that fallow paddy field, the land sunburned by the sun cracked, leaving only a bare root of rice, golden paddy bales, rows of neatly arranged tentacles full of fields, along that path Towards the end of the field, smoke-filled village walk ...