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我出生在黄土高原一个偏僻的小山村。在我儿时的记忆中,家乡的春天是个少雨的季节。那一道道光秃秃的山梁突兀在黄土高原上,在沙尘暴的无情肆虐下,显得倍加荒凉。在这个季节里,干裂的黄土地在无奈中等待着春雨的滋润,祖祖辈辈在这块贫瘠的土地上劳作的人们为了生计,期盼着雨水的到来。而那寄托着希望的种子久久不见发芽,煎熬着乡亲们的心。一年之计在于春。没有春华,何来秋实。春雨贵如油的道理在乡亲们中间已刻骨铭心。家乡的人
I was born in a remote mountain village on the Loess Plateau. In my childhood memories, the spring of my hometown is a rainy season. That unobstructed mountain ridge abruptly on the Loess Plateau, in the sandstorm ruthless rage, it seems twice as desolate. During this season, the cracked loess fields are waiting for the moisture of the spring rain. The people who work on the barren land for their ancestors are looking forward to making their living and looking forward to the rain. And the seeds of hope have long been seemingly sprouting, struggling with the hearts of folks. Year plan is in spring. No Chunhua, where to autumn reality. Spring your oil as the truth in the folks who have unforgettable. Hometown people