Page:The Way of the Cross, Doroshevich, tr. Graham, 1916.djvu/94

 78 As if funeral processions going in opposite directions were meeting one another.

Not even looking at one another, in fact, as if they did not remark one another.

To the town:

—To seek salt?

To know:

—What further orders have been given? Whither should they go now?

No, no, they are carrying coffins through,

Mostly children's.

A peasant is carrying a coffin on his shoulder. Silently after him and without weeping strides his peasant wife. Clinging to her skirts also silently and without weeping come frozen barefooted children.

Look, here comes a large coffin.

From the hardly shut lid hang new and bright coloured cottons.