I am a swallow from my hometown

The long holiday is not over, every day in the "sunshine campus, air class" through, the village to help has become a dream after the epidemic has weakened. Every day, shuttling back and forth between my hometown and school, I am a swallow in my hometown, and my flight has become a beautiful mark of youth. The time of meditation, looking at the appearance of the hometown landscape standing, in the evening, the lights of the hometown are lit up, and the cooking smoke is faintly raised, as if it is a paradise, touching the fragrance of the hometown landscape.

Speaking of hometown, talking about the origin of Yanagiura, it is just a legend. Liupu is the Miao language "Liu Supplement" harmonic sound, according to legend in the Ming Dynasty, living in Matai Long Beach of the Long Family, along the river to herd cattle, suddenly one day cattle to the present Liupu, how to catch up with the cattle refuse to go back, the Long family to see here the mountains and rivers are beautiful, the terrain is majestic, simply moved here to take root, named "Liu Supplement", named "Liu Supplement", that is, the cattle put in, and finally evolved into "Liu Pu", "Song Peach Hall Chronicle" recorded as "Liu Supplement" Miao Zhai. We don't think about those past years, but in the long river of history, Yanagiura stood in his own posture.

The figure who came out of his hometown Liupu was Ou Baichuan, who participated in the August 1st Nanchang Uprising, who was once Mr. Private School, when he walked to Guiyang to study, and now he is still lingering in the oral tradition of his hometown, which has become a mirror of hometown education, he participated in the Battle of Songhu, the Defense War of Wuhan, the Defense War of Changsha, etc., he pursued the light all his life, in 1955 he was elected vice governor of Guizhou Province, and today under the care of the party and the government, he repaired the former residence of Ou Baichuan and built the Ou Baichuan Exhibition Hall, and now this place has become part of the red tourism. It has become a patriotic education base for provinces, cities and counties. People who walk by stop to admire his bronze statue, reminisce about those great and arduous miles, remember bittersweet, and always have a grateful heart.

I remember writing something like this in front of his bronze statue: "Chanting in front of the bronze statue of General Ou Baichuan" Over the miserable wind and thin rain / The general is already a bronze statue / Flash in the Wuling Mountains / Flash in the Lal Mountains / Flash in the Lylong Mountains / Sparkling Suma River / Liupu Village / My hometown / Erected the backbone of steel / I came back again / The face of my hometown / Fell full of sunshine / The general's copper-colored body / Wei An in memory / Wei An in the merits of Bayi Nanchang / Wei An on the road in the pursuit of light / Youth flapped its wings / Mourning with a beam of wind in her hand / Endless recourse / The coordinates of a village / The backbone of the republic / All nothingness / All ethereal / In the light / History stretched out its thumb / The moon resounded with endless applause.

Relative to my hometown, I am just a swallow that builds its nest under the eaves of my hometown. Departing from your hometown and returning to your hometown, you will look at the feathers of the years and enjoy the grace of the sun. I flew tirelessly back and forth between my hometown and school, like a swallow's fateful trajectory. In the process of flying back and forth, destined to use words to harvest the loneliness of thin twilight that is quieter than night, compared to the lively hometown, my heart has nostalgia. Happiness and longing, full of full of sunshine, sparkling memories, that is, deeply dependent on the hometown. Leisurely stretching memories, peace, loved ones, like a mother's smile, but also the smile of the hometown, has always been warm as ever.

A casual turn, turning over the memory of his hometown Liupu, recalling those beautiful, those sweet, retaining the roots of memory, stretching his hometown into words, and letting his fragrance fly.

Hometown withdraws from memory, back to the origin of life, that point of destination; hometown is the starting point, a group of people rushing to the far side and the future. Many times I think that my hometown is a tree with scattered leaves, but at this moment, I am a swallow in my hometown, flying low above the fragrant soil, capturing those beautiful things, capturing those memories. My whispers are destined to become a pile of words, lifting my hometown above my head, dreams above the blue sky, and the Qin bricks and han tiles of the words.

Come quietly, go quietly, I am a swallow in my hometown. (Long Zhengzhou)