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一个人的生命之根,是感恩的依据,也是其文学情怀的本源。第八届茅盾文学奖颁奖那天是老父亲八十六岁生日。此前二十天,我回到团风县上巴河镇一个叫刘家垸的小地方,在爷爷长眠的小山上,为年迈的父亲寻找最后的安身之地。在爷爷的坟头前我长跪不起,并用乳名自称,以让老人家认识这个曾经受到百般宠爱的长孙。那时候,我不曾丝毫记起文学。
The root of a person’s life is the basis for gratitude and the origin of his literary feelings. The eighth Mao Dun Literature Award ceremony was the old father’s 86th birthday. Twenty days before, I went back to a small place in Shangba Town, Tuanfeng County, called Liujianyu. On the hill where my grandfather was sleeping, I sought the final place of shelter for an aged father. Before my grandfather’s grave, I could not afford to kneel, claiming to use the name of milk to let the elderly know this ever-grandson. At that time, I did not remember literature at all.