天气就像老巫婆的水晶球,神神秘秘,阴得叫人害怕,却不肯好好下一场雨。我身背猎枪,穿行于茂密的灌木丛中,路旁的荆棘则着我的长筒靴,在上面留下条条白色的印迹。我察看着前几天所挖的陷阱,除了一只小野兔外,再无其他收获,找把野兔装入袋子,步履沉重地走向最后一处陷阱,都 The weather is like the old witch’s crystal ball, God mysterious, Yin was scared, but refused to take a good rain. I am back shotgun, walk in the dense bush, the roadside thorns are my boots, leaving a white stripe on it. I looked at the traps I had dug a few days ago, except for a small hare, no other harvest, find the hare into the bag, walking heavily toward the last trap, both