——silently we unlatch the door，letting the drift fall in，and step abroad to face the cutting air．Already the stars have lost some of their spatkle，and a dull，leaden mist skirts the horizon．A lurid brazen light in the east proclaims the approach of day．The recent tracks of the fox or ot-ter，in the yard，remind us that each hour of the night is crowded with events，and the primeval nature is still working and making tracks in the snow．Opening the gate，we tread briskly along the lone country road．crunching the dry and crisped snow under our feet……while far through the drifts and powdered windows we see the farmer’s early candle．like a paled star，emitting a lonely beam，as if some severe virtue were at its matins there．And one by one the smoke begins to ascend from the chim-neys amid the trees and snows．
　　我们静静地拔去门闩，让飞雪飘进屋里；走出屋外，寒风如刀割般迎面扑来。星星已然黯淡无光，地平线上笼罩着深色沉重的薄雾。东方露出一片耀眼的古铜色的光彩，预示着天就要亮了。院子里，雪地上．狐狸和水獭所留下的足印清晰可见，这些提醒我们：即使在冬夜最寂静的时候，自然界里依然生机盎然，在雪地里留下生命的足迹。打开大门，我们迈着轻快的脚步，踏上僻静的乡村小路，踩在又干又脆的雪上……透过堆满积雪的农舍，我们看见农夫点着蜡烛，就像一颗孤寂的星星，散发着稀落的光，宛如某种朴素的美德在作晨祷。接着，烟囱里冒出的炊烟从树丛和雪堆里袅袅升起。