觉得抱住这个词语，自己就会是一株最朴素的庄稼 ，不矫情，不放弃，不懦弱 ，不懒惰 。
时常听到镰刀和麦穗悉悉索索的细语，他们述说着苦熬的相思 ，闪亮的忧伤沉浮在汗水与热泪中。也会见到镰刀像鱼儿在麦浪中游动，绅士般亲吻着麦子纤细的玉指 。
Village, this is a word with my first cry and grown up with me. This word makes me forget. It is so humble and warm.
This word is still full of mud, and it still affects the falling space in the sun, affecting the four seasons of the four seasons.
I feel that hug this word, I will be a simple crop, don't make the situation, don't give up, not weak, not lazy.
Words hanging in a lifetime, life is endless in my blood.
When you hear the sickle and wheat, Seposes, they said that they said the bitterness, and the shiny sadness is booming in sweat and tears. I will also see the sickle like fish in the wheat waves, and the gentleman kisses the sharpening of wheat.
until the sickle is old, hanging on the wall, bleak the breath of youth, waking up in the heart, sleepless all night - there must be a memories and wheat excited tremor.
The wind of the country is still whistling, and the dance of the dreams in the dirt.
Even if I treat me as a bitter butche.
In the morning, I woke up my cattle and sheep and flow.
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