这正是黄昏的时分。我坐在门楼下,观赏这白昼的余晖照临工作的最后的时光。在沿着夜色的田野,我凝望着一个衣衫褴褛的老人,一把把将未来的收获播撒。他那高大的黑身影统治着深沉的耕地。你感到他多么相信光阴的有益的飞逝。他独在大地上来去,将种子往远处抛掷,张开手,又重复开始。我呢,幽暗的旁观者。 This is the twilight time. I sat downstairs and watched the final hours of the day when the twilight of the day came. In the fields along the night, I stared at a ragged old man, one to sow the future harvest. His tall black figure ruled the deep arable land. You feel how much he trusted the useful passage of time. He was alone in the earth, throwing the seeds away, opening his hand and repeating it. Me, gloomy onlookers.