三两只鸡,一堵土墙。两个老家伙,还在晒着太阳。日头还有竹竿般高,那味道毕竟渐渐浓了,赤红赤红里,揉和了淡淡的粉。如酒烧的晕,从屋前古朴清亮的小河里,河岸流流泻泻泼泼洒洒的野菊花上和那只洋瓷面盆里,如 Three or two chickens, a wall of soil. Two old guys, still basking in the sun. There are bamboo sun-like high, it tastes, after all, gradually concentrated, red red, rubbed a touch of flour. Such as wine burning halo, from the simple ancient innocent river, the river flow spilled spilled wild chrysanthemums and the porcelain basin, such as