父亲打了我的时候，我就在祖父的房里，一直面向着窗子，从黄昏到深夜——窗外的白雪，好象白棉花一样飘着;而暖炉上水壶的盖子，则象伴奏的乐器似的振动着。 祖父时时把多纹的两手放在我的肩上，而后又放在我的头上，我的耳边便响着这样的声音：
“快快长吧!长大就好了。”
二十岁那年，我就逃出了父亲的家庭。直到现在还是过着流浪的生活。
When Father beat me, I would go to Grandpa’s room and stood by the windiow from evening till late into the night, watching the white snow falling like cotton, while the lid of the kettle over the stove clinked like a musical Instrument playing accompaniment. Grandpa would put his wrinkled hand on my shoulder and then my head, saying into my ear:
"Grow quickly, my child. When you are grown, things will be better."
二十岁那年，我就逃出了父亲的家庭。直到现在还是过着流浪的生活。
“长大”是“长大”了，而没有“好”。
可是从祖父那里，知道了人生除掉了冰冷和憎恶而外，还有温暖和爱。所以我就向这“温暖”和“爱”的方面，怀着永久的憧憬和追求。
At the age of twenty I fled home. Even today I am still wandering around Kke a hobo.
"Grown" as I am, but things are not any "better".
However, from Grandpa I have learned that in life there is not only coldness ind hatred, but also warmth and love. For that "warmth" and "love" I will keep longing and yearning.
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