" weary old ox, after hearing the old man’s lesson, raised his head as if admitting his mistake. Pulling the plow, he began to move forward. I noticed the old man’s back was just as black as the ox’s. Even though the pair had already entered the twilight of their lives, they still managed to noisily plough the rugged land, the earth breaking up like a wave crashing on the shore. Afterward I heard the old man’s hoarse yet moving voice sing an old folk song. First he sang a long introductory melody, then came two lines of verse: "

― Yu Hua , To Live