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天空是一片毫无生气的铁灰色，头顶压着铅色的云层，空气里夹杂着细密的冷雨，教堂的尖顶笔直地指向天空，一如既往。
不远处的钟塔上传来一阵低沉的钟声，惊起了一群乌鸦，黑色的羽翼划过冷峭的松树塔尖，在天际撕开一道丑陋的黑色伤口，最后落到了教堂的尖顶上。
四个人抬着一口漆黑的棺材从墓园入口走了进来，身后跟着一群长长的送葬队伍，男女老少皆有，悲伤的分子仿佛在空气里凝出了实体，随着雨点沉沉地往下坠。
一位帽子上缀着黑纱的女士抱着遗像走在最前面，步伐缓慢僵硬。她旁边是一位头发花白的绅士，步履蹒跚，似乎将全身重量都压在了手杖上。
他站在路旁的一棵松树下，远远的看着人群，任凭雨水打湿了肩膀，竟是不敢上前一步。
队伍在一个雪白的大理石十字架前停住了，为首的四个人稳稳地把棺材放进了墓穴，神父捧着圣经，低低的念了几句，随后一个穿着黑色裙子的年轻女士从人群中走了出来。她脸色苍白，一头红发在脑后挽成了一个紧紧的发髻，手里拿着一支白玫瑰。
“——Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aero planes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West.
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good. ”
人群中传来一阵低低的抽泣声。
她的身子晃了晃，短短几句话仿佛耗尽了她全身力气。先前抱着遗像的那位女士走到她身旁，
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