|字體：小 中 大|
The night when I lodged in a village hut in Shihao, an army of press gang came.
Clambering over the wall the old man run away, while his wife answered the door.
The officier shouted with wrath; the old woman sobbed with griefs.
Recounting her misfortune, she told the officier that all of her three sons were drafted into the army to guard Yecheng.
The message from one of her sons said his two brothers were just killed in action.
He lamented the survivor chose to go on living in fear, but the deceased had gone forever.
Except me there lives no others in the house but my baby grandson whose mother still sucks him.
Because of the baby the barely rag-cladded mother cannot go anywhere.
I am a feeble old woman, but I can go with you to do the army a service.
you can send me to Heyang right away to cook for the soldiers, so take me please.
As the night wore on, the conversation died away, leaving only the low sound of sobbing.
When the morning had broken, I went on and said my leave-taking to the old man only.
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|( 創作｜散文 )|