drunkard.
A furious chair. Balthazar's whimper.
Two loud slaps. Mary covered her face and wept.
Balthazar's life experience and Mary's fate are like two lines that are constantly intersecting, and finally come to an end, and Balthazar falls dead in the desolate and lonely wilderness of the frontier like a bard.
Shepherds are in the invisible mountains. The dog is barking. Bells are ringing in the flock.
Mary, a wandering wanderer in an unknown foreign land,
can remember that
late at night, she once wore a bouquet of flowers
on Baltazar's head.
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