每天下午,利乌斯·依·达乌莱特广场1的钟楼要敲钟的时候,她就会蹒跚走来。一个小黑点,年老而羸弱的妇人,穿着长裙和一件说不清是棕色、绿色还是米色的毛衣。我在阳台上看着她缓缓走向市政厅对面的那张长椅。那椅子从来没人坐,连广场上踢球的孩子们都不坐。有一次,某个闲逛的游客坐了她的位子,在那儿翻找摄影包里的东西。她就在不远的地方站着,耐心地等待,直到他离开。然后差不多是磕磕绊绊地冲了过去,在老地方坐了下来,像是想要夺回损失的时间。 Every afternoon, she will falter as the clock tower at Leos Dayaulight Square 1 rings. A little black spot, old and frail woman, a long skirt and a sweater that can not tell brown, green or beige. I looked at the balcony as she slowly walked over to the bench opposite the town hall. The chair never sat, even the children playing in the square do not sit. Once, a wandering tourist sat in her seat, looking for something in the bag. She stood in the distance, waiting patiently until he left. Then almost stumbled over and sat down in the old place, as if wanting to take back the lost time.