那一年的深秋,我曾经造访一座古城。天地苍茫。强劲的北风,裹挟着西海的咸涩空气和草原的干冽气息扑面而来。一丛丛芨芨草,燃烧着金黄的火焰,在寥廓的大地边缘颤抖。古城不语。说是古城,却几乎已分辨不出城廓的模样,经过一千多年的风雨侵蚀,时光之镰早已无情地割断了古今的联系,还苍野以苍野的本来面目,只有风,只有云,是这块土地上永恒 In the late autumn of that year, I visited an ancient city. World vast. A strong northerly wind, threatening the salty air of the West Sea and the prairie dry breath blowing. Clumps of grass, burning golden flame, shivering in the boundless edge of the earth. Ancient city without words. Said to be the ancient city, but almost can not tell the appearance of the city profile, after more than a thousand years of wind and rain erosion, the fallacies of time has long mercilessly cut off the ancient and modern contact, but also Cang Ye to Cang Ye’s true colors, only the wind, only the cloud It is eternal on this land