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[何强易航]

“脚下的那片泥土，每抓起一把，都一定会攥出血来。”

-- 诗人芒克


摸爬滚打，跌跌撞撞地走进了2013年，历史将忠实地记载下我的败绩且毫不留情！
心中的那片黄土地，承载了我太多的儿时记忆。。。58岁了，人生仿佛回到了原点。
回归痩土，感到失去了什么，又增加了什么。。。我知道自己永远无法洞悉麦地的秘密：沉默的黄土，泥的灵魂，昨夜梦中错过的哭泣。。。岁月就在这不经意间，走过！所有的梦都已碎成满地的枯黄。我就像一个迷路在这座城市的孩子，找不到回家的路。
为了重新认识土地，选择了沉默。那些久远的故事都在这残存的斑驳的记忆中慢慢远去。走进麦地，走进疯狂的金色，绝美的节奏。一首《就恋这把土》的曲子，让我的心飘荡着某种淡淡的思绪，我的北方，静静的麦地。许多记忆在熟悉的生活中褪色，只有那麦地土腥，总也拂试不掉，渗透进我的肉体。当一个又一个破碎的梦摆在面前，为什么总有一种感动，在我的血液里不肯消散？
荒芜了的时间就让它荒芜着去吧，现在紧要的是脚下的土地，在这里我找到了安魂的殿堂，无法不停在这里听土地的呼唤和回音。既然命运让我选择了这贫瘠的土地，我将重新开始播种漫长而辛苦的希望，用苦涩的汗水耕耘麦地。站在这里有了飞翔的渴望，恍然顿悟：就恋这把土



































Love is the soil

(sequence)

"At the foot of the piece of clay, each grabbed a, will hold a bleeding."
— poet MangKe


Me.but, stumbled into the 2013, history will faithfully record my losses and no mercy!
In the hearts of the piece of farmland, carrying too much of my childhood memory... Fifty-eight years old, life as if returned to the origin.
Regression poor soil, feel lost what, and add what... I know I will never be able to understand the secret of wheat, the silence of the loess, mud soul, a dream last night to miss cry... Years in the casual, through! All dreams are broken into everywhere withered and yellow. I just like a lost in the city children, can't find the way home.
In order to know the land again, choose silence. Those old story in this residual mottle memory slowly away. Into the wheat, walked into the crazy aureate, absolutely beautiful rhythm. A "will love this earth" tune, let my heart floating a certain light feeling, I quietly to the north, the wheat. Many memory in familiar life fade, only the wheat soil xing, total also blows try not to drop, penetrate into my flesh. When a and a broken dream in front, why there is a kind of touched, in my blood will not lift?
The waste of time to let it go to the desert, and now it is urgent that the foot of the land, here I found the AnHun palace, can't keep in here and listen to the call of the land and echo. Now that fate let I chose this barren land, I will start planting long and hard hope, with bitter sweat cultivation of wheat. Standing here is the desire to fly, suddenly insight: love the earth