冬夜

Winter Night

冬天，一个冰寒的晚上。在寂寞的马路旁边，疏枝交横的树下，候着最后一辆搭客汽车的，只我一人。虽然不远的墙边，也蹲有一团黑影，但他却是伸手讨钱的。马路两旁，远远近近立着灯窗明灿的别墅，向暗蓝的天空静静地微笑着。

It was a cold winter night. The street was deserted. I stood alone under a tree with an entanglement of bare branches overhead, waiting for the last bus to arrive. A few paces off in the darkness there was a shadowy figure squatting against the wall, but he turned out to be a tramp. The street was lined with fine houses, their illuminated windows beaming quietly towards the dark blue sky. It was icy cold with a gust of strong wind bowling around. A couple of withered leaves, still clinging to the branches, rustled mournfully from time to time. The shadowy figure, taking a copper coin from me with thanks, straightened up to attempt a conversation with me.