Goodbye. Weapons - Translation. Classics Library (033)

Author: Hemingway
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-08-01
Features: That late summer, we lived in a house in the countryside, overlooking the high mountains across the river and the plains. The riverbed was filled with pebbles and large round stones, dry and white in the sun. The water was clear and the river rushed swiftly, deep pools of azure. The troops marched past the house, kicking up dust that settled on the leaves, even coating the tree trunks with layers of dirt. That year, the leaves had already fallen early. We watched the troops move along the road, dust swirling in the air, leaves drifting down with the breeze. After the soldiers passed, the road was bright and empty, left with only scattered fallen leaves. The plains were rich with crops; there were numerous fruit orchards, while the mountains beyond the plains were bare and brown. The peaks were in the midst of battle, and at night, we could see the flashes of artillery. In the darkness, the situation was like summer lightning, though cooler at night without the oppressive heat that precedes a summer storm. Sometimes in the dark, we could hear the sound of troops marching past the window, and the rumble of motorized trucks dragging heavy artillery. At night, traffic was frequent, with many donkeys carrying (ammunition boxes) on the road...