夜色漫过山岗,天冷下来
寨子里,那些迷失多年的羊群
又神秘地在荞地边徜徉
此刻,木门打开
亲人们呵着气,变得有些懒散
一个种族的夜晚就这样开始
火塘燃起来
那些错落的木板房
在南高原的冥想中轻轻摇晃
烈酒和兰花烟的气味
透过时间沉重的木栏,飘散
火苗跳动,一个种族
始终围坐在一起
从夜的眼看到天亮
那些赶马的人,远行的人
可以随意走进敞开的木门
暖暖身子,喝碗烈酒
友情的歌谣在岁月之河一直流淌
沉浸在神话的风中,老人们面容安详
孩子们走了,把爱的花籽
撒向远处的山梁
有一天回过头
火塘与他们的距离,已愈来愈远
犹如婴儿的脐带,被谁剪断
那些人,蜷缩着身子睡眠
在梦里追逐着爱情和羚羊
一个梦境幻化为另一个梦境
火塘噼啪地燃着
是谁,在神灵之手的引领下漫游
满怀感激,又心慌意乱......
在无边的星空下,怀想火塘
这温柔又怜悯的时刻
我感到某种幸福
The color of night spreads across the hill, the
air chills
In the village, those long lost sheep
Again mystically roam beside the buckweat
fields
At this moment, the wooden doors open
Relations breathe deeply, becoming a bit
lazy
......
Immersed in the wind of myth, old people’s faces
at peace
The children have gone, with seeds of love
Scattering them along the mountain ridges of faraway places
One day looking back
The distance between them and the hearth, ever increasing
Just as the infant’s umbilical cord, wo was it that cut it
Those, curled up in sleep
Chase love and antelopes in their dreams
A dreamscape transforms into another dreamscape
The hearth burns crickle-crackle
Who is it, lured by the spirits hand led wandering
Overjoyed, and distressed . . . . .
后记:
