Every day I meet the hawker crying，“Bangles, crystal bangles！”
There is nothing to hurry him on, there is no road he must take, no place he
must go to, no time when he must come home.
I wish I were a hawker, spending my day in the road, crying，“Bangles, crystal bangles！”
When at four in the afternoon I come back from the school，
I can see through the gate of that house the gardener digging the ground.