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一当树叶落尽,原野上飘起稻香的十月,如果在丰年的时候,那神社的森林里的大鼓之声,杂着笛声和村人的骚杂之声,都满溢於日本东北了,然而今年的东北野原上,见不到狂热的人影,只有那早已载满了雪的奥羽山脉,高耸在寂寥的地平线上。在虫声幽幽的火车站的月台上,有四五个脸子较漂亮的女性,背著包裹,絜着小箱,在嗫嗫地言论着。沉暗的脸与脸,毫无一丝笑痕的她们的後面,站立着吸着烟的提着小皮包的洋装汉,这些是每天从荒年地带里,逃到都市里去的妇人。毫无太阳光明的村里,一天天消失了村中的女姿。那村
In October, when the leaves fall and the wilderness is flooded with rice incense, if in the harvest year, the sound of the bongo in the forest of the shrine, the whistle and the voices of the villagers are overflowing with the northeast of Japan However, this year’s northeast of the original, can not see the fanatical figure, only that has long been filled with the snow of the Okha Mountains, towering in the lonely horizon. On the platform of the train station with insects and insects, there are four or five beautiful women with face on their backs carrying packages and piled on casket. Behind them with dark and dark faces and no trace of laughs stood the smoky, dresses of little purses, women who escaped to the city every day from the heathlands. There is no sun bright village, disappeared day by day the village posture. That village