A habilidade mais simples

The village floated and bulged, crimson clay oozing from its gloomy wounds. The first star flashed above me and tumbled into the clouds. The rain whipped the willow trees and dwindled. The evening soared into the sky like a flock of birds and darkness laid its wet garland upon me. I was exhausted, and, crouching beneath the crown of death, walked on, begging fate for the simplest ability - the ability to kill a man.

Isaac Babel, Red Cavalry, Nathalie Babel (ed.), Peter Constantine (trad.), Norton, 2003