家乡的那条小路

作者:唐冰亦人气:1539更新:2021-07-15 10:00:10

家乡的那条小路,总会在我梦里出现 。
小时候 ,每天打开门,小路便会将我的目光牵引:小路上是母亲挑着煮饭的清泉水,还有姐姐在路边割牛草 、哥哥在田野耕作的身影。
下雨的日子里 ,小路与路旁的山影便朦胧在迷茫中。走几步就不知道哪是山哪是路,一会儿后人就飘渺在雨雾中了 。雨后的小路上泥泞里满是人畜的脚印,一弯又一弯 ,从山中蜿蜒出来 ,拐了几个弯又蜿蜒进了山里边。
小路太窄,路这边的草一到春天便疯长伸展,不到几天就将草尖搭到了路的另一边!
乡亲从路的两头走了过来 ,于是另一个侧一个身,对面来的才能走过,如果胖一点大叔大婶 ,则要拥抱着才能过。
小路弯弯,像条飘带,让我从有记忆的童年开始随着舞动 ,日出时伴我在山路上跟在牛的后面数露珠 。当晨雾还弥漫在小路上的时候,便牵着牛儿在路上 。牛喜欢啃了这边的再慢慢啃那边,有时啃一下这边的 ,看到那边的草嫩,又啃一下那边的。露珠便随着草儿滚进了牛肚子里。
日落时,夕阳将金辉洒在路上 ,一条白色的飘带便从山脚飘到山腰!小路便从暮雾里将我和童年伙伴接回山里来 。
小路的上边是山坡 ,路的下面便是水田。春耕时节邻家伯伯叔叔赶着牛扛着犁从山这边的路上去耕耘,山那边的路上走着婶婶挑着身去路下边的田里去插秧。
一到夏日,路边的棵树 ,就会将整个路面遮掩 。清晨,鸟儿们用清脆的喉咙将日子唤醒。到日头升起来的时候,那里又是我和伙伴嬉戏的好地方 ,也是邻家阿婆乘凉地聊天的所在。
一到秋天,路旁的树叶早已榭了枝条,悄然飘落 ,走在小路上,叶碎的声音便吃了一路,很凄婉而悲壮 。这时路下边的田地里丰收的声音掩盖了叶碎的声音 ,那是欢乐!
一到冬天,雪花舞舞来严寒,小路上便印满了我们欢快的脚印。

 

那时我有好几个愿望 ,我想看看看小路的尽头在哪里 ,我想知道路是不是一直弯下去。邻家婶婶讲故事说山里面住着神仙,于是我想知道小路的两是不是也住着神仙 。
依然记得顺着小路走,翻过两座山 ,便是舅舅家,他家门前没有弯弯的小路,却有一条宽阔的马路 ,原来小路并不是所有地方都有的。
父母们老了,我们长大了,很多人在这条小路走出去了 ,我也如鸟儿一样羽毛丰满了就飞向了自己向往的山外。但小路依然从哪里弯,又弯向哪里,岁月和时光无论怎样都改变不了它 ,春生夏秋没的杂草无论怎样也没不了小路的飘荡 。
现在,虽然鬓发早已斑白,心里总在回望那条小路的点滴:因为那里有我和儿时同伴的欢声笑语 ,有慢慢跟在哥哥姐姐身后隐约的画面 ,又有在阳光中欢跳着捡拾稻穗的身影,还有在路上踮脚望远的记忆!
家乡的那条小路,将我的心紧紧缠绕……

英译版本:

The small road in the hometown will always appear in my dream.
When I opened the door every day, the small road will pull my gaze: the train is the Qingquan water that picks up the rice, and my sister cuts the gows on the road, my brother's figure is in the field.
In the rainy days, the road to the road and the roadside is in confusion. I don't know where to take a few steps, which is the road. After a while, the future generation is informed in the rain fog. The small road behind the rain is full of people's footprints, and a bend is still bent, come out from the mountains, turn a few bends, and enter the mountain.
The road is too narrow, the grass here is going to the spring, and it will be mad in the spring. In less than a few days, I will take the grass to the other side of the road!
The folks came from the road to the two ends, so the other side, the opposite side came, if the fat is a big uncle, you have to hug.
Small road bend, like a streamer, let me start from the childhood of memory, with me with me on the back of the cow in the sunrise. When the morning fog is also filled on the road, I will take the cattle on the road. Niu likes to smash this side and slowly, sometimes you will take this side, see the grass there, and lick it over. The dew drops roll into the beef belly as the grass.
At sunset, the sunset will sprinkle Jin Hui on the road, and a white streamer flutters from the foot of the mountain! The small road will pick me up into the mountains from the bog.
The upper side of the road is the hillside, the following is the water field. In the spring, the neighboring family, uncle, rushed to the road to cultivate from the road to the mountain, and walked in the road to the road to go to the road.
One to summer, the trees on the roadside will cover the entire pavement. In the early morning, the birds woke up with a crisp throat. When it comes to the sun, there is a good place to play with my partners, and the neighbor's grandmother is chatting with cool chat.
One go to autumn, the leaves next to the road have long been a branches, quietly falling, walking on the road, the voices of the leaves have eaten all the way, very sorrowful. At this time, the sound of the harvest in the fields in the road covered the voices of the leaves, that is joy!
When I went to winter, the snow dance dance was cold, and the road was filled with our cheerful footprints.

At that time I had a few wishes, I want to seeWhere is the end of the road, I want to know if the road is always bent. The neighbor is telling the story, I live in the mountain, so I want to know that the two of the road will live with gods.

I still remember the road to walk, turn over two mountains, it is a family, there is no curved road in front of his house, but there is a wide road, it is not all places.
The parents are old, we grow up, many people go out in this small way, and I am full of feathers like a bird, flying towards themselves. However, the small road is still bent, and where is it, the years and times will change it, no matter how the weeds in Spring Summer, no matter how they don't have a circle.
Now, although the hair is already white, the heart is always looking forward to the little way: because there is my wife and laughter, there is a slowly followed by the brother sister behind, and there is in the sun Joy and pick up the figure of rice, there is still a long memory!
The small road in the hometown, tightly wound my heart ...

Copyright jmser.net 鸡毛书 Rights Reserved.