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一山花坐在檐下,一抹阳光柔柔地洒落在她滑落下来的那绺头发上。她看到大儿子倚着墙壁,像老牛顶着树桩用力搔痒痒,大女儿蹲在门口玩泥巴,屁股撅得很高,不时回头看。山花捋捋头发,朝女儿招招手。女儿眨巴着眼扭着小屁股跑了过来,山花摸摸女儿的头,女儿长长的眉睫下闪着大大的眼睛。这双眼睛,恨恨地蛰了她一下。那年她只有15岁,天蓝得出奇,像是纯蓝墨水浸过似的。一大早,一村人吵吵嚷嚷地像潮水般地涌去西头,她穿一件旧的花棉袄,早饭没吃也被
Sitting under the eaves of a mountain, a touch of sunshine softly sprinkled on the hair that she slipped down. She saw the eldest son leaning against the wall, like a cow stinging hard against the stump, the eldest daughter squatting at the door to play in the mud, butt was very high, from time to time look back. Mountain flowers 捋 捋 hair, beckoned toward her daughter. Dizzy eyes twinkling little butt ran over, touch the daughter of the mountain flowers head, her daughter’s long-eyed flashing big eyes. These eyes, stared bitterly her. That year she was only 15 years old, blue sky was surprising, like pure blue ink soaked. Early in the morning, a villager shouted like a flood into the west, and she wore an old flower-cotton jacket,