小镇寂寞地被晾在苍黄的暮色下。旧屋门前的老梧桐叶绿如昔,夕阳透过枝丫的缝隙,投下斑驳的倒影。梧桐树已经种了20多年,树干颤颤巍巍。外婆的藤杖支在裸露出地面的树根旁,她和树正以相同的姿势,等待孩子们回家。黄昏的阳光填不满她脸上的沟壑,穿过绿林的风也寻不见她鬓间的黑发。外婆老了,她终于爱到无力,只能一次次以这样的姿态等着儿孙回来,又一次次不舍地送他们离开。 The town was lonely in dry yellow twilight. The old house in front of the old Indus leaves green as the past, the sunset through the crevices of the branches, cast a dappled reflection. Plane tree has been planted for more than 20 years, trembling towering trees. Grandmother’s cane sticks to the bare root of the ground, she and the tree are in the same position, waiting for the children to go home. Dusk sun filled her face gully, through the winds of the Greenwood can not find the black hair between her. Grandmother was old, she finally fell in love with powerlessness, can only wait for her children and grandchildren in such a gesture again and again, again and again to send them away.