“磨剪子、磨菜刀……”从远处传来一阵阵吆喝声，这声音是一位操着外地口音的老人喊出来的。
"Sharpen scissors, sharpen kitchen knives..." From a distance came shouts from an old man with a foreign accent.
这时，我正在家里写暑假作业，我赶忙跑到窗前向外看，远处走来一位老人，看上去有六十多岁，头上顶着破旧的草帽，身穿已经洗得发白的蓝粗布衣服，脚穿一双老式胶鞋，肩上扛着一把长凳，上面绑着一块磨刀石和一个黑布包，从远处慢慢地走来。他黑红的脸膛，满脸皱纹，干裂的嘴唇，汗水浸湿了衣服。很显然，老人已经很久没有休息了，他为了能多挣点钱养家糊口，就这样整天走街串巷去磨刀。他是多么伟大的一位老人呀！
At this time, I was doing my summer homework at home. I ran to the window and looked out. In the distance came an old man, who looked over sixty years old. He was wearing a worn straw hat, a washed white blue cloth suit, an old-fashioned rubber shoes on his feet, a bench on his shoulder, a grindstone and a black cloth bag tied to it. He walked slowly from the distance. His dark red face, wrinkled face, dry lips, sweat soaked clothes. Obviously, the old man hasn't had a rest for a long time. In order to earn more money to support his family, he goes all day to grind his knife. What a great old man he is!
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