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一个冬日,文林邀我和几个文友去他家做客。到达时已是黄昏,山间的袅袅炊烟,就像一双双手将我们召唤。这是一个群山环抱的小村,黑瓦白墙的房屋,门前溪流淙淙,屋后绿竹掩映。放眼望去,山峦重叠,翠意横漫,黄叶点缀,柔和的夕阳默默地窥望着。村落里,安静祥和。男人在田里犁着田,女子在地里栽着菜,老人们倚在墙角晒着太阳。站在屋前,这样的村庄是那么的温暖,那么的亲切。“生活在这里,多美。”一个文友慨叹。是啊,没有肆虐的厉风,
A winter, Wenlin invited me and several friends to his house guest. Arrived at dusk, the curl of smoke in the mountains, like a pair of hands to summon us. This is a small village surrounded by mountains, black tiles and white walls of houses, in front of streams caves, houses set off by green bamboo. Looking ahead, the mountains overlap, Cui romantic, yellow leaves embellishment, soft sunset glimpse silently. Village, quiet and peaceful. Men plowed fields in the fields, women planted vegetables in the fields, and the old men leaned against the sun in the corner. Standing in front of the house, such a village is so warm, so cordial. “Live here, how beautiful. ” A gentleman sighed. Yes ah, there is no raging Li Feng,