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建筑工:丈量城市年轮绽放在鸽哨上的微笑,阳光般灿烂。与白云的对话,闪烁着金属的质地……蓝天下,谁用瓦刀丈量着城市的年轮?哦,你的岁月,挟着炎日与风雨,于脚手架上跋涉。在砖与砖之间的攀援中,城市的构想,与你的青春一同成熟。站在高高的楼层,你会看到,匍匐在下的涌动的车流,与喧闹的市声……而更多的是,看到常挤到枕边的斑驳的老屋,和倚在竹篱旁的母亲眺望村口的眼神。你黝黑的身影,总是背对掌声与鲜花。当大厦落成的庆典锣鼓响起,你已伫立在远处透风的工棚前,正凝望尘土飞扬的工地……
Construction workers: measuring the city rings bloom in the whistle on the smile, the sun shining. Dialogue with the white clouds, flashing the texture of the metal ... Under the blue sky, who used the tile knife to measure the city’s ring? Oh, your years, with the heat and wind and rain, on the scaffolding trek. In the climb between bricks and bricks, the idea of the city is ripe with your youth. Standing on a high floor, you will see the surging traffic creeping underneath and the bustle of the city ... And more often, seeing the mottled old house crowded to the pillow and the bamboo The mother beside the fence looked at the look of the village entrance. Your dark figure, always back to applause and flowers. When the gongs and drums of the celebrated building sounded, you were standing in front of a ventilated shed in the distance and were looking forward to the dusty site ...