Does anyone know the original poem "Deer Turn Back"?

There is a place where the wind blows. The pregnant wild fern has given birth to spores, and the wind takes the baby to travel together. Some fell on the hair of the vegetable picker, some touched the swallow's black coat, and some slipped into the river and splashed. The river is like a thousand vagrants playing the flute, accompanying the children who go to school. When a naughty child wears a book on a yellow fur hat and carries two shoes across the river, will the spore baby jump out of the flute hole, bite the child's skirt and finally return to the soil of the wild fern mother?

1

In the twilight of the vernal equinox, I sat in the living room and admired the paper and clay sculpture paintings you sent me. On the envelope, you carefully wrote "Amy's sister saw it herself" and attached a note, hoping to hang it where you can often see it. I hung up the main switch in the living room and began to trace back your tricks. The two good friends you pinched, the one with a flat triangular face and crooked eyes and nose, are obviously me, and the uncle and son with a round smile are of course you. I can easily imagine that since you bought paper clay and conceived a portrait, the bud of that trick has made you itch all over, and even snickered when you slept for no reason. On the phone just now, I pretended to be angry. "Please give me a reasonable explanation!" You can't help picking the needle like a full balloon, poking all the joy and laughing so clearly, as if playing drums in my ear: "Because ... cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck. " "

Twilight floats in my lonely heart. Two good friends are holding hands in the photo frame, as if the innocent years will never be drifted away by time. We were two children, learning the lip flute of a thousand piccolo vagrants. Your voice is an eleven-year-old piccolo, and I have reached my hoarse thirties.

It's usually at night. Sometimes I wait for instant noodles to soften, and sometimes it's worse. I rush out to answer the phone with my wet hair. How to write "Abduction" 7 "Save all questions, you are always sure that it is me on the other end of the phone, as if the waterfall sounds and the abyss will respond." Hold the left hand, tie it to the right and add another' other', and the other hand is' turn'! "Your child's voice is always clear, and your breathing is always clear." Go wipe your nose! Come on! "Then I heard a' bang' of dragging my mobile phone, and an eleven-year-old boy tried to use a facial tissue to deal with the monster in his nose. In addition to asking for new words and exercises, your phone also told me that Wu's knee had just been glued with OK tension and how to piece together a thousand super warships by himself. After your mother gave up drinking, I finally hung up. My instant noodles are like a bowl of fat maggots, and my hair is dry for some reason.

I was lucky enough to witness your wet black hair and red face like a little monkey when you were born. At that time, I was desperate for you. Such an ugly baby, obviously delivered by caesarean section at the right time, is obviously not a powerful person. Later, your mother accompanied me for two or three days, made a general survey of several names drawn up in the list of emperors, jade generals and poets, and chose a slightly modified fortune teller to be worthy of the expensive naming fee, and strongly recommended this kind of Excellence, which will be the dragon of every family in the future. I soon got used to hugging you and imagining you as a little dragon, not a crying monkey cub.

According to my age, I can afford to give birth to you, especially the university is full of flowers, with a little maternal romantic impulse, let me hold you like an experienced unmarried mother. By seniority, I'm just a cousin of my peers. This is so embarrassing. Cousins, if they don't cry for a maltose, often wear each other's shoes in the wrong way, only to find out the relationship when they get home. I swear by my right thumb that I will never classify the picture of squatting in the duckling toilet with you singing nursery rhymes and calling people black excrement as "cousin"

Although it was more than twenty years later, I realized that the loneliness at that time was because the thunderstorm in summer stopped, and the smell of wild ginger flowers and the delicate fragrance of rice seedlings in the air constantly filled my chest, which triggered a little girl's first love. When the voice of love is louder than rolling thunder, but she can't open her mouth and spit out lightning, she has to be alone in the gray rain in the afternoon.

I sit on the roof. Since I learned to climb the roof with vigorous skills, I secretly sat on the dragon throne like the only daughter of the emperor, and claimed my world early. Except for a few fields and a lonely big banyan tree, the infinitely extended paddy field was shocked by the magic carpet of Cuiyuan for the first time. I want to lift it with open arms. What kind of land has nurtured this bewitched green and my folks who are quietly working among the buildings! "Di", I have learned these two words and strokes, but I don't understand what it has to do with my life except the achievements in Chinese exercise books. After the thunderstorm, there are still large black clouds wandering, and the golden sun is struggling, so that the clouds are inlaid with gold thread and the green carpet is swaying. I am afraid that when I read the word "land" to the maximum volume, 10 thousand sika deer will run out of their mouths in panic and fly over the green carpet, dark clouds and the only scorching sun. There is a kind of loneliness that makes me silent, but when I saw that I remember my mother weaving a green carpet with flower towels and hats, I didn't know that her daughter was watching all this on the roof, and tears suddenly fell.

Although it took me more than twenty years to understand that loneliness is always accompanied by love. Moreover, the tears at that time may have been influenced by the sudden flying out of an egret in the valley of wild ginger flowers, just like Yin Xue.

2

There are two emotions intertwined in my heart. Watching you grow up will inevitably surpass your sister's identity.

When you were three years old, I spent a winter vacation with you. Your parents go to work separately, and the vast daylight becomes our secret kingdom. One day, you were tired of playing with building blocks and clamored for me to play with you. I am addicted to a wonderful novel, and I can't wait to turn you into a lovely baby poster and stick it on the wall. Unreasonable, I put you on the sofa, don't move, run into the room and jump, come out and hold your little hand on your chest: "Is there a deer running?" Running fast, right? Is your deer running? "This recruit doesn't work. Of course, you can't touch your heartbeat in a thick coat. I stressed: "What if it is terrible? "Your deer is not running!" Then, like a kind fairy sister, let you run around the house to save the deer. Finally, I can go back to the plot of the novel and remind you from time to time: "Keep running! Otherwise, I don't care if the deer dies! "

Of course, there are times when things go wrong. For example, when you have a whim, try to find your mother. I think explaining your mother's coming back after dark on a business trip in the simplest terms should not exceed the intelligence of a three-year-old child. I'm annoyed by your runny nose and drooling posture-your posture is tantamount to overthrowing the secret kingdom where I think I am happy. "all right! Get dressed and go to your mother. " But my sister can't take you to cook. Tell you what, shall I ask uncle postman to take you there? "You have a face of tears, let me change your clothes and socks. I am a little reluctant to part with you, and I want to keep you more and more. Lies have to be made up: "uncle postman sends it, then send the package!" "Well, first weigh how many kilograms you have. Now, write down your address ... "I deliberately walked around, rummaging through everything to delay the time, and you followed like a poor little egg. "The address is written. Now put a stamp on your forehead so that the postman will know that you are a package! " You're getting curious about the postpartum process, so stop. Let me stick the stamp on your forehead. I will pat you on the forehead: "Very good, very tight, now send the package! Do you still want to drive your mother? " "Yes!" I took your little hand out of the house and glanced at the Zhang Yiyuan flag seal on your forehead. I really wanted to laugh, but I must respect the determination of a three-year-old child to find his mother, try to be as calm as a great expedition, but moderately praise the Q of fruit fudge and the taste of hot cocoa milk at home. "Look, the mailbox is over there." Let me explain to you the four red and green plugs: "Hey! It won't fit! Sadly, once again, it still doesn't work! You are too fat! " You put out chubby hands and feet, shoved them into the hole, and started giggling. My realistic acting skills make you forget the big goal of finding your mother and become the protagonist of a street drama. Finally, you readily agreed that we really need a cup of hot cocoa milk at the moment, and you didn't resist. Let me take your chubby package home. I want to carry your little package home.

I am willing to carry you behind my back to find that beautiful world-I thought that when I entered the adult society, the small door made of petals would disappear forever. As if I were fascinated by you, I touched your bright light and felt it emerge in the air. When you walk upside down, I seem to see those wings flapping in the air behind you, which makes me turn around quickly to see if my wings are flapping behind me. When you are lying in bed, holding that brown blanket-you must touch it to fall asleep; When I want a nursery rhyme or story, I know you will take the magic carpet to visit the beautiful world. My soft female voice is just a parting wind, but I can't ask you to take me away. So, the story of that night is that I left messages over and over again, secretly tied to your shoelaces:

"In a place far away, there is a strange world. A flock of pigeons with white feathers grow on the branches. When they are happy, the tree flies away. Sometimes they run to the house, and sometimes they land on the river. The lilies on the grassland are all small speakers who love to talk; The weather is fine, they play the trumpet; The weather is bad, but it will blow. People there sew clothes on their bodies with river water. If you cut cloth at high tide in summer, it will be fatter to wear. The cloth cut in winter is very thin. However, whether fat or thin, a fish often runs out of the pocket, and sometimes a large group of fish mothers just give birth to small fish. The sun there is like a big red egg. Fall from the sky every afternoon, roll into the grass to sleep, and bounce back the next day. One day, the sun accidentally fell into the river and it couldn't swim. Suddenly, the river turned into a smoky jiaozi River. Lily saw it and sounded the horn in panic. The children lay happily on the river bank, scooping up the little red dumplings and eating them, almost eating them up. A kind little boy thought: If everyone ate up jiaozi, there would be no sun tomorrow! He spat out a small dumpling and dared not eat it. The other children are full, lying on the grassland and breathing, sleeping in the winding river, with fish in their pockets swimming around until they burp.

In the middle of the night, the little boy took the last red dumpling to the pigeon tree: Please take me to the sky, I want to send the sun back! The first pigeon wakes the second, and the second wakes the third. Finally, all the pigeons woke up, and a snow-white wind blew, quietly carrying the little boy and the thin sun into the sky. The weak sun couldn't stand at all, so the boy pulled the black silk in the sky to disturb his seat. I didn't expect him to scratch the silk cloth and make a sparse starry moon hole. He also drew the waterline of his clothes and sewed the sun tightly in the sky.

The next day, the sun came out. It was no longer a big red egg, but a golden plate dancing with thousands of gold threads in Qian Qian. No one knows the story in the middle of the night, only the little boy knows that he is going to the river to make another dress.

Sister Amy.

"Huh?"

"Sister Amy, I want to eat glutinous rice balls ..."

Pigeons flying far away fly back to the roof at dusk, and deer escaping from hunting in the mountains will turn back frequently, making it difficult to give up the injured doe!

In order to avoid the flood in midsummer every year, I was sent to a city with buildings. They dressed me up as a child in Chengdu, except for my dark skin, which exposed the secrets of the village. They taught me a new accent so that I could answer in front of the guests without showing any trace.

I have a bucket of golden chicken biscuits and a beautiful floral dress. However, at dusk, I want to imitate the little mosquitoes in grandma's eight-legged bed and mosquito net. The big mulberry trees by the well are going to turn purple. I want to eat all over the floor in the iron bucket of golden chicken biscuits. My saliva left a stain on my pillow, but I couldn't pick the mulberry in my dream.

They asked someone to send me back to my hometown. Nobody likes crying children. My mother led me along the path in Yucun with a broken black umbrella. Ok, take my shoes, and we will hold the water vein barefoot, one big and one small. Alas! It's time to drain more water, the meal is finished! See white Wang Yang diffuse to the waist of rice, fine rice flowers must be turned into water. Don't send me to a place where I can't go home. The rice is flooded, but the roots are still there.

three

I hope to tell you slowly that the toy I bought will die forever, which is an adult's atonement sacrifice. Only the primitive vitality in the brain is the magic powder that makes everything magical. I would like to show you the way to the magical world when my children have not arrived or will never arrive. But when we have the opportunity to live next door, you have already entered the star kindergarten and installed the bib label for private cars. I woke up at once, and I didn't dare to mention the past events such as running deer, mailing parcels and pigeon trees, for fear that you would dismiss them as ridiculous lies.

Your childhood was only bmp, ABC and six million dollar man at dusk. In order to prevent the little people who kidnap children, you must be accompanied when riding an SUV in a small park. The only constant is that the brown carpet is still your favorite before going to bed. You are not allowed to touch it, but if I accompany you to watch anime videos on winter nights, you will generously lend me a cold foot cover for you.

One summer, when I visited your house, your mother went out shopping and urged me to take care of you in broad daylight to prevent thieves-since your house was stolen at night and left a dazzling knife on the bed, your mother was never allowed to be alone in the house again. We ate cold watermelon with red meat, and white porcelain floor tiles with squares were like chessboards. At that time, you could already play gobang. I propose playing chess with my mouth. Take a bowl of watermelon at each end of the living room, count squares, guess fists, choose a piece of watermelon to eat, leave melon seeds after swallowing the meat, spray them on each other's squares, and win or lose by the number of squares and melon seeds. You completely entered the rules of the game, laughing your head off, especially when I was not allowed to spray melon seeds on my glasses because of my mouth shape, and you fell to the floor like a crazy little beast. You enjoy your happiness. Suddenly, your mother came back, frowning and shouting, "What? Sticky answer! Eat watermelon like this! Children don't understand, and you don't understand! "

I know it's time to go back to my sister's office, apologize for being scolded, and bid farewell to the educational water mat in front of you. It's all over, except for a flightless blanket. You will always stay in the rich family, enjoy the scolding and loneliness of your only son, and there are a series of star schools and children's talent classes waiting for you. When you doze off in a talent class and laugh and snore in the dream of watermelon chess, you will understand the weight of happiness: but you will never understand the weight of a small tear when you walk out of the house that day. I like to touch your ears and rub around. It's like playing with two balls of cotton. I can't believe there is such a soft "Oh, what a beautiful flower"-your pronunciation as a child. "Come here, oh lend me some fun! You are also very happy to have a pair of beautiful soft ears. I moved a few times, far away from you. One day, you shook your phone and said, "Sister Amy, I tell you, my class has blossomed." Touch, touch, touch, touch! "

Our phone calls are gradually focused on schoolwork, especially math. You have a gift for painting. I have kept your sketches for over four years. The planetesimals are bigger than the moon. You say it's because it's falling. A bunch of people went to eat guava. If they eat apples, we will chew guava instead, and the wrong ones will be "poisoned"! But you said that your father said that when you grow up to be a painter, he would kick you to death and stick you on the wall. You only paint after school, but influenced by animation programs, you specialize in Superman, Iron King Kong and Devil. As you know, it is more important to keep the top three in the class than to color invincible iron.

"Sister Amy ..." Your voice choked, as if you had just been beaten.

"Alas, alas, you shed tears, and I am drowned here!"

"Mom said I was deaf and didn't listen to the teacher in class, so I made a mistake ..."

"All right, report that damn topic!"

"There are two watches. Watch A gains one and a quarter seconds a day, and watch B gains one fifth of a second a day in slow three. How much is the difference between the two watches? "

I explained it twice, but you didn't say a word on the other end of the phone. I seem to see you frowning at that string of numbers. Math meets your fear, and nothing is more terrible than fear.

"Well, let's forget this question. Let me ask you a question. Listen carefully: A is five minutes fast and B is five minutes slow. Suppose the standard time is twelve o'clock now, you draw three tables first. "

"Yes, table A is 12: 05, and table B is 1 1 2: 55."

"How many points?"

"ten points."

"How did you come?"

"Add it up!"

You handled the original question in the same way, but you answered me, "I got five, but the answer is one twelfth ..."

"Look carefully, is it minutes or seconds?"

"Points, ha ha ha! Just turn five seconds into minutes! "

How I want to tell you that the purpose of mathematics is to train your thinking process and analytical ability before true and false scores scare you. You can think of exercise as a detective story of Yasen Lubang, and use your little head to solve the mystery, instead of peeking at the solution and deducing the calculation method in reverse. Only originality from rich imagination and clear haircut thinking can test the answers provided by others. We become strong because of the pursuit of truth, instead of being well-dressed dwarfs.

I want to leave the small green village and look for my hoe in the wide world. Yellow rice waves beckon to me in summer. I carved the name of the village on the forehead of the deer and left with the amulet of my life.

Architecture is my blood, and the clarity of well water is the color of eyes. Wild ginger and red brick, not this time. I only have the skin color of mature rice given by Pingyuan.

four

Two years later, when you graduate from primary school, you will become a small international student. Your parents are investing in the United States and are eager to pay attention to your English class. After all, leaving dragons among greedy black islanders means that parents are irresponsible. Every summer vacation, your mother takes you to America to get used to your future country. Your mobile phone can already sing the nursery rhymes of ten Indian boys with fluent greetings.

There is a world where you won't be a guest. Although the dove tree fell to the sloppy city, the strong deer fled to other countries; But you have to believe that your sister Amy will always take good care of her own green blanket and the paper clay of her two good friends. Loneliness is always accompanied by love, and it also strengthens love.

I still hope that one day, when you fall asleep in a brown carpet on a snowy night in a foreign country, you suddenly wake up and dream of a hidden deer. Please put a stamp on the forehead of the deer and send it to me as an air parcel.

My pigeon tree can only fly when the deer turns around.