夕阳把草原燃成通红了。<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> 刈草的孩子无声地刈草， 低着头，弯曲着身子，忙乱着手， 从这一边慢慢地移到那一边…… 草已遮没他小小的身子了—— 在草丛里我们只看见： 一只盛草的竹篓，几堆草， 和在夕阳里闪着金光的镰刀…… 一九四零年
Boy Reaping Ai Qing The evening sun burns the entire plain scarlet. The boy reaper reaps the grass in silence. Head bent, body curled, bands quick with work; From one side he slowly moves on to the other. Grass buries his tiny body— We see only, in the dense clumps of grass, One bamboo basket, a few mounds of grass, And in the evening sun, gold flashes off the sickle. 1940 |
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