隔着几丘麦茬田，我发现母亲额头上的发髻，就像尖利的鸟喙，不断地点头啄麦

隔着几丘麦茬田，我发现母亲额头上的发髻，就像尖利的鸟喙，不断地点头啄麦；弯腰拾麦的母亲，就像一只忙在嗉袋里储存麦粒，以便回巢喂养雏鸟的鸠雀。<br>有时放学回来，我就会在半路上碰见母亲独自出来拾荒捡麦。在暮色苍茫的旷野里，为了给自己壮胆，母亲的歌声老远就从空旷的麦茬田里传来，特别嘹亮：“三月麦子青，四月麦子黄，麦子黄，做粑粑，送儿去读书……”

隔着几丘麦茬田，我发现母亲额头上的发髻，就像尖利的鸟喙，不断地点头啄麦；弯腰拾麦的母亲，就像一只忙在嗉袋里储存麦粒，以便回巢喂养雏鸟的鸠雀。<br>有时放学回来，我就会在半路上碰见母亲独自出来拾荒捡麦。 在暮色苍茫的旷野里，为了给自己壮胆，母亲的歌声老远就从空旷的麦茬田里传来，特别嘹亮：“三月麦子青，四月麦子黄，麦子黄，做粑粑，送儿去读书……”

Across the stubble fields, I found that the bun on my mother's forehead was like a sharp beak, nodding and pecking at the wheat constantly; the mother who stooped to pick up the wheat was like a hatchling bird who was busy storing the wheat in the crop bag so as to return to the nest and feed the chicks.<br>Sometimes when I come back from school, I will meet my mother on the way out alone to pick up the wheat. In the dusk of the wilderness, in order to embolden myself, my mother's singing came from the open stubble field, especially loud and clear: "wheat green in March, wheat yellow in April, wheat yellow, making Baba, sending my son to study..."<br>