Father's body comes with air conditioning Poetry/Xishuangbanna Zhou Yanfeng
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In our south, the four seasons are not distinct
There are only small springs, big springs, big summers, and small summers
And my father's body has its own air conditioning
There is only one season, and it is "lukewarm"
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On a sunny day in May, the scorching sun is scorching
The chickens hid under the trees, and the dogs did not dare to go out
Only the father is not hot, his rough hands
I did the delicate work: mending clothes, nailing buttons
Stitch by stitch, patience and meticulousness
An Ran's sewing demeanor is more demure than that of a big girl
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In the morning and evening of the lunar month, people dress as fat people
Many homes are heating with fires
My father wore only one set of clothes
Digging the ground, chopping wood, carrying water, doing laundry, cooking
Busy and happy, busy like a fire
There is simply no time to feel the cold
