赶着那队牲口，他上到山顶

Driving the team, he came up over

往下看。在那只洁白的碗里

the hill and looked down. in the white bowl

白雪覆盖的山谷，他的房子

of the snow-covered valley, his house

仿佛一根烛芯燃烧着，正吸进

was aflame like a wick, drawing up

他为之奋斗的一切。

into itself all that he'd worked for.

一次，四十年后，我们经过。

Once, forty years later, we passed.

那是十月。地窖

It was October. The cellar

被幼树的火苗填满。

was filled by the flame of young trees.

我下了车，但他坐在后排

I got out, but he sat in the back

直直地凝视着前方，这个老而又老的男人，

and stared straight ahead, this old, old man,

仍然紧紧地勒着他的岁月的缰绳。

still tight on the reins of his years.