為著這匹馬，父親向祖父起著終夜的爭吵。“兩匹馬，咱們是算不了什么的，窮人，這匹馬就是命根。”祖父這樣說著，而父親還是爭吵。九歲時，母親死去。父親也就更變了樣，偶然打碎了一只杯子，他就要罵到使人發抖的程度。后來就連父親的眼睛也轉了彎，每從他的身邊經過，我就象自己的身上生了針刺一樣；他斜視著你，他那高傲的眼光從鼻梁經過嘴角而后往下流著。
所以每每在大雪中的黃昏里，圍著暖爐，圍著祖父，聽著祖父讀著詩篇，看著祖父讀著詩篇時微紅的嘴唇。
Mother passed away when I was nine years old. From then on. father became worse; he scolded us to the degree that we shivered with fear just for accidentally breaking a cup. Afterwards, even father’s eyes became squinty. which made me feel like being pricked with a needle whenever I walked past him; when he looked askance at you, his arrogance went from his eyes to the bridge of his nose and then continued to move down the corners of his mouth.
Therefore, often at snowy dusk, we sat around grandfather by a heating stove, listening to him reading poems and watching his reddish lips while he was reading.
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