The little cart jolting and banging through the yellow haze of dusk.
The man pushing behind: the woman pulling in front.
They have left the city and do not know where to go.
" Green, green, those elm-tree leaves: they will cure my hunger,
If only we could find some quiet place and sup on them together. "

The wind has flattened the yellow mother-wort:
Above it in the distance they see the walls of a house.
" There surely must be people living who'll give you something to eat. "
They tap at the door, but no one comes: they look in, but the kitchen is empty.
They stand hesitating in the lonely road and their tears fall like rain.