Love song prose in terraced fields in spring
Walking through the winding green hills, I am affectionate and upright, open and broad-minded, welcoming the spring breeze and drizzle.
A pile of terraces, talking and laughing, showing bright smiling faces and singing spring flowers and plants.
Spring has come to majestic mountains, wide terraces, winding mountain roads, short mushroom houses and the warm hearts of Hani people. Spring has come and everything is revived. There is no place to stay awake, nothing to stay awake, and no mind to stay awake.
Mother can't sleep at night, and she is preoccupied with farming in the fields. She crept up, opened the comfortable bed, shook off her father's refreshing snoring, and hastily awakened the fire in the fireplace, the crow of the rooster and the sunrise in the sky. ...
My father was carrying a heavy plow and rake, driving a strong bull and anxiously measuring the distance from the door to the terrace. He lifted his footsteps lightly again and again, and stepped again and again, awakening the winding road and crystal dew, the bright songs and flexible wings of wild birds, the gurgling spring water and the bright terraced fields, and plowing out the fat mud and mud eels with ecstasy. ...
Grandpa staggered along the ancient mountain road with a sharp machete, coughing and shaking dormant insects; The flash of a machete stimulates the tender grass with fear; The smoke from the pipe choked the water in the ditch. ...
Grandma carried a flexible basket and walked around in the ancient terraces, waving her hands and picking up the dreams of sleeping pigs and grass leaves; Dancing sickle, combing the messy mood of vines; Pull up the tape and tear the greedy heart of the sun. ...
Between heaven and earth, the thin figure of grandparents is as bright as sunshine and moonlight, guarding our healthy growth; The mountains and rivers are boundless, and the gentle voice of parents is like lush vegetation. Wish us a happy life. We sang in the terraced fields, danced wildly at the bottom of the mushroom shed, cried on the ridge and shouted at the edge of the terraced fields. Naive and ignorant voices turn into breeze and white clouds, floating in the distant sky; Pure and flawless tears turn into clear waves, rippling slightly and permeating the four seasons of terraced fields.
Terraces on a mountain, hills after hills, with no end in sight, we are willing to engrave the beautiful scenery of terraces on endless eyes; There are countless days to release ducks, day after day. We happily store the sweetness of childhood in the hearts of iron walls.
She doesn't have to sing loudly to explain where the ducks are; As long as you follow the duck around, you can find her small and exquisite body. My four drakes are chasing her four female ducks; My four female ducks followed her four male ducks. Ducks come to the terraced fields to play carefree, sometimes playing in the water, washing away the dirt, and showing their most beautiful side to their confidants; Sometimes foraging, low-grade food, but also swallowing, burying the pain in the bottom of my heart, leaving the happy space for my partner.
Hill paddy fields are crowded in our shining eyes, green and growing day by day after the embrace of the sun and the kiss of the rain. Bright green leaves are fluttering in the wind, constantly showing their beauty, calling for their love, waiting for the auspicious day of marriage.
Strong wooden harrows stagger to level the plough peaks, which can always reach the hearts of those people. Waves of sincere love songs fluctuate with the mud, and I don't know which beautiful girl is holding them. ...
Stubborn dustpan criss-crossing north and south, picking up loach, but haven't caught the sincerity of these people yet. A passionate love song followed the cool water, and I don't know which gang's wooden rake got stuck. ...
Grandpa gently pulled out the seedlings, tied them tightly with palm leaves and put them neatly behind him; It seems to be whispering a story with no ending, and every sentence contains heavy suffering, which makes future generations remember it over and over again. Father quickly grabbed handfuls of seedlings and threw them into the raked fields; It's like holding wine and delicacies, offering a pious sacrifice to the gods, and worshipping the gods of water and field.
Grandma dragged handfuls of seedlings feebly, as if to block the sunshine of the past and warm the terraced fields in spring. Mother unhurriedly inserted the seedlings into the fertile soil, as if sowing a glimmer of hope and decorating the spring scenery of the terraced fields.
Our simple eyes are infatuated with the busy figure of adults, and our sensitive ears are filled with songs of pursuing a better life and a happy life, leaving the sacred duty of guarding ducks to the outside world. I don't like love songs. I followed the muddy water behind the wooden rake back and forth, and quickly grabbed the loach that appeared and disappeared. I caught a bunch of loach and smiled with satisfaction. However, I have a soft spot for women who sing love songs and indulge in the earth-shattering sea of songs.
Ducks always dance in pairs in terraced fields where no seedlings are planted. Years have polished their slender feet, and their slender feet have polished their long ridges; The brilliance of the sun painted their shiny feathers, and the shiny feathers painted colorful fields and waters; The soil on the terraced fields rubbed against their flat mouths, which combed their companions' minds. They shed their enthusiasm on the terraced fields without regrets, threw an inscrutable love song into the sky, and gave their cold and hot lives to the earth.
Her naive thoughts are expanding day and night in her narrow mind. Before she can think about the love songs she just learned, it will be difficult to break my overgrown heart. She covered the weeds in my heart with love songs, inserted green seedlings into my heart with the ups and downs of plough peaks, and held her breath for a bumper harvest.
The wide terraced fields can't accommodate the gentle and touching love songs of ducks; Man Yan's tortuous way home was drowned in the song of ducks seeking love and connected with the beautiful Longtan water.
Will protect her for life.
"Gong ... congratulations ... congratulations."
"What is your love?" She still doesn't know the answer and doesn't care about his answer. He never gave her his love.
However, his love is like a sharp knife, cutting her soul.