Driving the team, he came up over

赶着那队牲口，他上到山顶

the hill and looked down. in the white bowl

往下看。在那只洁白的碗里

of the snow-covered valley, his house

白雪覆盖的山谷，他的房子

was aflame like a wick, drawing up

仿佛一根烛芯燃烧着，正吸进

into itself all that he'd worked for.

他为之奋斗的一切。

Once, forty years later, we passed.

一次，四十年后，我们经过。

It was October. The cellar

那是十月。地窖

was filled by the flame of young trees.

被幼树的火苗填满。

I got out, but he sat in the back

我下了车，但他坐在后排

and stared straight ahead, this old, old man,

直直地凝视着前方，这个老而又老的男人，

still tight on the reins of his years.

仍然紧紧地勒着他的岁月的缰绳。