黄昏了。慢慢地,像是偷偷地走着,紫丁香色的阴影落了下来,罩着森林。巨大的日轮在黄金和暗红的血的急流中快烧着了,大路像死了的灰色的蛇,在静下的田野里躺着。看哪,那些赤脚的来了。三个、四个、六个,拖着装满了木柴和枯枝的小车,他们绷紧了他们的年轻的身体上的筋肉。帽檐撕破了的帽子,打着黑色的补丁的灰色的裤子,他们的血管紧张得像船上的桅索一样,额上流着 It’s dusk. Slowly, like walking in secret, the lilac-colored shadow fell and covered the forest. The huge sunburst was burning in the rapids of gold and dark red blood. The road was like a dead grey serpent lying in a quiet field. Behold, those who come barefoot. Three, four, six, dragging carts full of firewood and dead branches, they strained the muscles of their young body. Hats with torn caps and gray pants with black patches, their blood vessels are strained like the chords on the boat, flowing on their foreheads.