Chapter 12 Chapter Four

ma! ma! ma!Am I calling a horse?Am I calling my mother?Am I suffering from ventriloquism?Little old uncle, it’s not that my nephew is suffering from malaria. For many years, I have often heard this call, a very distant call.I often hear its loud hoofbeats that are getting farther and farther away, farther and farther away, ma! ma!I often feel her gentle touch, sometimes she seems to bite me, pinch me, ma! ma!I feel very sad, little old uncle, the evil time for our herbivorous family has already come, and the coming of the red locust is a clear proof. ma! ma!You really haven't ridden it?Have you ever thought about riding it?In the dead of night, the aroma of roses is tangy, and you haven't ridden it in your dreams?

I thought it was flying at first.People don't believe that people can fly, how can they fly without wings?I don't believe that people can fly either, so when I flew up, when I was lying on my stomach on a cloud and gliding quickly across the forest, I couldn't believe myself.The electric sparks on the high-voltage wires irritated my belly. The pigs in the commune slaughterhouse howled and were carried to the black blood-smeared chopping board. The butcher rolled up his sleeves, the white knife went in, and the red knife came out.Blood splattered, and the poplar leaves were dripping with blood.You must be crazy!The little old uncle said, you always have a high fever and your nerves are burned.Son of a bitch!Nephew, why are you swearing again?Many people advise you: don't swear, follow the right path, but you always swear!I have never scolded anyone!Little old uncle, I mean: bastard's bastard!It's over, you child, you have entered the heresy and have no future.You really haven't ridden it?You look at me, I don't believe it!I do not believe.The grass swirls under my stomach, and groups of paper-made children jump out of the roof.Exotic flowers and plants, rare birds and monsters, open and grow on the ground, running around and playing.The snow on Maya Mountain has long begun to melt. The herbivorous family has lived on the other side of the mountain for generations. Is that where my grandmother came from?Then why did he marry his mother again? Isn't this a big taboo in marriage: "Flesh and blood return home"?Jin Dou, you can scold anyone, but you can't scold the team leader.After passing the mountain, there is a dense pine forest, the pine forest is black pine forest, and the top of the forest is covered with snow. I don’t know what season it is, but the cold breath of the snow hits my nostrils. I fly high and see far. .As long as you can fly high, even if you fall to pieces! ma!I found that the black pine forest is in the shape of a circle, which surrounds, surrounds, hides, and devours a piece of grass.The roses are blooming on the meadow!Rose smells like a rose!The roses are all pink, and the flowers are as big as a hydrangea with thousands of petals, overlapping.Among the flowers, there was a young woman with dark red skin wandering around.She wears a high bun on her head. She has a thin face, high cheekbones, plump lips, sunken eyes, which are very large and dark, and a protruding, smooth forehead, like half a gourd.I was amazed at the clear air in this thawing weather. She was wearing a short skirt that was below her knees. The material of the skirt was not silk or satin. , the skirt is dark red, with black stripes evenly growing on her skirt.She was walking among the rose bushes, stroking the flowers, pulling the black leaves of the roses, looking bored.On her bare feet, there were scars drawn by rose thorns, and she seemed to feel no pain.Tell me the truth, little old uncle, have you never ridden it?I buried my face in the intoxicating grass, and I heard that distant call again: ma! ma! ma!There was clearly a pure black naked boy riding on a tall red horse, running around the large field of roses, running around her.The roses flourished like clouds, drooping heavily, and the petals were as cold as ice.I clutched a large rose in one hand, and a guilty feeling came over me, and I suddenly felt like crying.I was secretly surprised that the roses had no fragrance.But she sang: "What a rose, what a piece of roses, the garden is full of fragrance, but it is not as fragrant. I want to pick one and wear it, lest I be scolded."

The melody of the song is very familiar, but the lyrics are always a bit awkward, ouch!Come to think of it, you sang it wrong, it should be, I sang: "What a jasmine, what a jasmine—" She glanced at me with her deep, deep, cave-like, deep lake-like eyes for about half a second, and then, half-clenching her empty fist, she slammed into a bowl of deep red roses. After beating her, she sang in anger—clearly against me—she sang: "What a rose, what a rose—" She pursed her lips, her lips were crimson like a rosebud about to open.The rose that had touched her fist shook like a heavy head.

I sang: "No one in the garden is more fragrant than her!" She sang: "No one in the garden is more fragrant than her!" After she finished singing, she stared at my mouth viciously, as if she would pounce on me and kill me if I dared to open my mouth again. The white and red marks on his calf. "Ma! Ma! Ma!" I yelled, and only by yelling could the horse gallop. I, who was ashamed of being naked just now, was now lying on the smooth and warm horse's back and covered, but my buttocks were still covered. There was a chill, and I rode tighter on your back, and I hugged your neck tightly with both hands, "ma! ma! ma! Your satiny mane is wrapped around my neck, your four hooves When flying, like a flowing rainbow, I seem to be flying, horse, your feeling is my feeling, the pleasure and tension of your muscles are all transmitted to me, and the taste of green grass in my mouth comes out of your mouth, The smell of fried beans and bran. Ma! Ma! Ma! When your hoofs fly, the soles of my feet are shining with silver light, and I am soaked in the smell of slightly salty and slightly sour sweat stains when you sweat. .Horse me. Unfolding graceful arcs, we, with tail fluttering, like a colorful satin, my horse! Ma! Ma! Ma! But I can still feel the magical power of the thigh and buttocks being hit, your mouth Ice-cold my icy-cold lips have a scent of soybeans and wheat A boat that goes down the river, I immediately heard the distant call and saw the sparks, ma!

The sun shines on the buttocks, short feathers, thick and tough skin, skin without hair, we, us. And the eyes of roses, heavy, as big as a head, are rose flowers, hitting the buttocks with heavy turbidity, the pollen of roses is like sand, flowing along our smooth skin, and the snow-covered mountains of Maya in the distance Glittering, rosin-scented. You must have ridden it, little old uncle! You nonsense... The little old uncle whined like a wounded dog. Can you not be emotional at night when the horse's skin shimmers under the stars?Can you not be attached to the kind smell on the horse?

ma! ma! ma!The little old uncle also screamed wildly with the same voice. My Ma Ma I am galloping, radiant, like colorful clouds chasing the moon, like Gaohu solo, like "Colorful Clouds Chasing the Moon", she walks among flowers, she has the color of rose, she has the fragrance of lilac, she is there Walking in a labyrinth of roses, when the sun is strong, the roses turn dark green, and the silver light of the remnant snow is frightening.Her red dress had also turned dark green, and the skirt was open, revealing her collarbone, and her neck was graceful and slender.The wind is blowing, there is no dust, the color of the wind is snow-white, like a silver light shooting into the rose bushes, the leaves of the roses rub against each other, the flowers of the roses collide, and the roses wither.

Later, when she came out of the rosebushes, the horse ran in front of her to intercept her, biting her shoulder with its teeth, and slapping her buttocks with its front hooves.The most amazing thing is that when she seemed to be passed out on the grass next to the rosebushes, the horse was back and forth, constantly crossing her body, flying back and forth, with a strong waist, curly mane and flying tail , like a piece of satin.I suddenly recalled that when she bent down to smell the roses, the light in her skirt went into the darkness and disappeared, and her nose touched the stamens, and the roses were fragrant.

The day of the horse race is coming, and the pears on the pear tree are already as big as wine cups, and the detachment leader is restless.It's not restlessness, he is eager to try, thinking of showing his skills on the racetrack, right?Little old uncle?It's like the excitement and nervousness on the eve of the big event that has been expected and prepared for a long time, right?Little old uncle. The leader of the detachment goes to the grass every morning to race horses. His riding skills are excellent. I have never seen another person in my life who can ride as well as the leader of the detachment. The little old uncle said with infinite emotion. Years passed.He is running around on a red horse.The scene of the detachment leader galloping on horseback on the grass flashed through the little old uncle's mind day and night like lightning bolts.In the morning, the sun had just risen and the rooster began to crow. Yellow Beard took the horse out of the room and tied it to the hitch post on the inner side of the south wall. The horse, the red horse's hide longs to be stroked, longs to be rubbed against the fluffy branches once touched by the broom, and it kicks its hooves comfortably.The horse's eyes were shining blue, and the sun shone on the red horse like a raging fire.Little old uncle, have you never ridden this horse?Never even thought about it?This is impossible, can civet cats sleep with fresh fish on their pillows?If a civet cat can sleep with fresh fish on its pillow, then I believe you would never even think about riding it.

In a blink of an eye, the pear is as big as a wine cup.The grassland is always shrouded in thin white mist in the early morning, birds are singing, and dewdrops are dripping on the grasstops.The red saddle is bright, the tail is bowed, the hooves are itchy, looking forward to galloping.The detachment leader held the pear tree trunk with one hand, brushed his teeth with the other, and sprayed white foam from his mouth.The yellow beard looked at the detachment leader's mouth with good eyes. The little old uncle said that the detachment leader pulled the horse out of the courtyard, flew on the horse, and gave the horse a symbolic whip on the rump, and the red horse shot into the grass like lightning.

After the detachment leader rode away on horseback, the little old uncle recalled that the courtyard was covered by dark clouds, and the yellow beard was cleaning the horse manure in the wing room while cursing loudly. This language is said to be highly polluting. Although the little old uncle Recite it to me like an endorsement, but I dare not extract a single word. Horse manure and soil soaked in horse urine were put in a basket. Yellow Beard ordered the little old uncle to take out the basket. He was leaning on a shovel, with angry and sad expressions on his face. Although the little old uncle had some grievances , but did not dare to disobey, so he had to bend over and carry the stinky basket and move it out little by little.

The captain of the detachment beat the horse and galloped on the grass. His body leaned forward slightly, his buttocks were not connected to the saddle, and his legs in high riding boots tightly clamped the horse's belly. The red horse could only gallop under such a rider. Even the red horses knew that the day of the race had come. Did you go to the horse race day? I went, I went, and the yellow beard went too. That morning, the pears were as big as eggs, and the detachment leader got up just after dawn.He never came to the east wing, but he did come in the night before the race.A soybean oil lamp was lit in the wing room, the light was as bright as beans and as yellow as apricots.The detachment leader stretched out his hand to touch the red horse's head, and took two steps back to pat the red horse's buttocks. The red horse happily wagged its tail and shook its head, and the iron chain on the reins rattled.Mosquitoes are flying, and mugwort is burning, emitting fragrant smoke. "Old Huang, Yellow Beard," said the detachment leader cordially, "feed the horse well, tomorrow, we must win, and if we win High Commander's Tuberose, I will give her to you for free. We must win, right? We must win!" The yellow beard buried his head on his knees, without saying a word.The detachment leader personally poured a few ladles of fragrant beans into the manger, patted the horse's head and said a few words, then walked out of the wing room, and the leather boots creaked into the north room. But soon he heard the sound of leather boots at the door of the wing room, the head of the detachment poked his head in, and said: "Yellow Beard, check the saddle and girth, so as not to make mistakes." The leather boots sounded into the north room again, and the north room There was the sound of rushing water, and her... talking. The yellow beard raised his head, and his face was like gold in the yellow light of the soybean oil lamp.With his eyes closed, he seemed to be listening to the voices in the north room, and it seemed that the eminent monk had fallen into samadhi... Are you bewitched?The little old uncle was a little annoyed and asked in surprise, a horse is naturally a good horse, but does everyone want to ride a good horse?Did you know that a good horse is better than a good rider? There are three major risks in life: riding a horse, riding a boat, playing a swing!If you can't ride well, your tendons will break and your bones will break, it's a shame, it's not a joke!Horses have the nature of dragons, how can people subdue them if they violate them?Being bitten by it is worse than a cold and diarrhea. But I can't calm down this strong desire. This desire is a kind of disease. Any desire is a disease far worse than cold and diarrhea.Wishes are a bit like falciparum malaria, which can kill.That distant and mysterious call seemed to come from a hole in my heart, sending out wave after wave of echoes. ma! ma! ma! How long is she going to linger like a ghost in this large rose bush? She lingers here in stormy days, lightning and thunder, and she will never say a word after singing that song.Bowl-sized roses bowed their heads, their petals were curly, and there was a sad expression on the flowers, but the expression immediately became wild again, and the lowered heads rose slowly, sometimes rapidly. .I saw her stretch out a broken fingertip, gently stroking the faces of the roses, the pale and haggard faces, the leaves of the roses trembled, and the petals closed together to wrap the stamens.The petals wrap around the fingers.And later, the torrential rain beat the roses, the sky lit up with erratic and criss-crossing waterfalls one after another, and a lightning bolt pricked up its ears to wait for the thunder.The rain was splashing.The rain washes the smooth and thick hide of the red horse. ma!Smoother and smoother.You are leaping, passing through curtains of water, the red light on your body is like lightning bolts.Prick up your ears, waiting for the thunder to fill your ears.The roses withered.Her feathery skirt clung to her legs and buttocks.Her hair was coiled around her neck, and everything was rinsed clean. From time to time, she pinched the skirt and shook it, but when she let go, the skirt stuck to her legs and buttocks again.You are not cold, I am covered with chicken chestnuts.Golden beans!Jindou's nephew!Great nephew!Are you sick again?don't shake.The little old uncle took off his lice-infested torn padded jacket and put it on my shoulders.Who is riding on the horse? Little old uncle, at that time, you were lying on the hot kang, and you really didn't feel tempted at all?You smell the hot and sour smell of sweat on its body, don't you have half a dream?Have you ever ridden it in your dreams? So who is the naked black kid?it's me?It's you?We ride on its hot back and run with it.We see her standing among the rosebushes, the raindrops trickling down her cheeks.After the rain, the sky is sunny, the mountains and rivers are fresh and picturesque, and the air is cool and clean, which makes people unbearable to breathe.The rain on the petals formed a layer of light blue ice, and the flowers became heavier.She was also frozen in a thin layer of transparent ice armor, even the fragrance was imprisoned.The red horse put on glasses, his nose was red with cold, the bristles of his lips were covered with frost, and white hot air was blowing out of his nostrils.The sun is extraordinarily brilliant here, and the roses in the ice are bright red. The red horse staggered around the rose, and the thin ice on the ground was trampled by the horse's hooves, making a crackling sound.During the exercise, the ice armor on the horse is also breaking, falling pieces down, falling on the ice, breaking again and again, cold, too cold, horse, red horse, please run, let me fly Run, let's fly together.We run on wires.We fly on the horizon.We run on the light.We run on white, quivering nerves.We run on the arched colorful bridge.We run on colorful rainbows.After the rain, the sky cleared, and a rainbow flew for a long time. The Mo River twisted and twisted on the grass field, like a huge silk.Singing and dancing, the horse rides me, the horse rides you, the happy people and the suffering people sing and dance, tears dance, Namo Amitabha, Namo Amitabha... It seems a long, long time ago One day, when the roses were in full bloom, it suddenly snowed heavily.All the roses were buried by the heavy snow, only one rose that was as big as a baby's head was still showing its head. The flower was purple, reflecting a piece of white snow. A dead leaf.She was standing in front of the flowers, still wearing the short brown skirt, with her upper body naked and only a green bra.There was a soybean-sized bump on her bare skin, chilblains.There was a faint smile on her face.She just smiled and stood in front of the roses, like a patron saint, or a black stake.Horse, run faster!The red horse trudged through the snow, the snow was several feet deep, and the snow was close to the horse's belly.Every step forward is very difficult, ma, ma!you go quickly.The horse said, I can't walk anymore.Two big amber-like teardrops flowed out of its eyes, which burrowed into the snow like bullets, and the snow creaked and scalded.If we can’t walk, we have to go, we must overcome the insatiable desire of the senses, and run to the ideal coast, where birds and beasts are friendly with us, and the warm gray-blue waves lazily lick the golden coast.Ma, don't cry.A man does not flick his tears easily, just because he has not reached the sad place!The snow fetters our feet, our running consciousness roars anxiously, but the snow fetters our legs and feet, and we can't pull our hoofs smoothly.I can't forget the happiness when I hang the iron palm.The horse shoeer, with an oilcloth around his waist, hugged my leg in a friendly embrace, and my hoof waited on a high wooden stool.The blacksmith held a sharp shovel-knife in the socket of his leg, and went up and down to repair my hoof.The hiss of the hooves being sliced ​​by the knives intoxicated me, and I fell asleep.There are also such fools who struggled desperately and were hung up with their lips tied, and the string strangled their lips like a purple grape.He raised the hammer and nailed the shoe on my hoof, and the blow seemed to hit my heart.Put on your new shoes!I heard an old man with a white beard say.A child picks up scraps cut from my hooves.One person said: This thing can be used to grow flowers.Can I grow roses?Any flower will do.How I wanted to run, but the snow tied my hooves.I burn.I will never be able to live without this bloody rose, the rose in the snow, next to her, she becomes scarier than God in a second...golden bean!Golden beans!What happened to you?why are you crying?