卖炭翁老头子背着炭火的辛酸路
记得那年冬天，我在一个小镇上偶遇了一个身影，那是卖炭翁。他穿着破旧的棉袄，背负着一捆捆黑乎乎的煤块，仿佛整个世界都压在他的肩膀上。他的脸颊因为寒冷而变得红扑扑，但他眼中却闪烁着坚韧不拔的光芒。
我走近了一步，小声问道：“您今天怎么这么辛苦啊？”他抬起头，看向远方，然后回过头来看着我，他笑了笑，说：“这是我的工作，每个冬天都是这样。”
sells charcoal, old man carrying firewood's bitter road
I remember that year in winter, I encountered a figure in a small town. It was the coal seller. He wore tattered cotton jackets and carried bundles of black coal on his back, as if the entire world was weighing down on his shoulders. His cheeks were red from the cold, but there was an unwavering determination in his eyes.
I took a step closer and asked softly, "How hard you must be working today." He looked up at the distance before turning back to me with a smile. "This is my job," he said with resignation. "Every winter is like this."
