一直对电影的结尾印象深刻,整个画面被一片朦胧的光晕所笼罩。男主角独自站在人群涌动的广场一角,他要回家了,他朝思慕想的家和深爱着的母亲。金色而温暖的阳光安静地洒在这片土地上,将他包围。委婉动听的音乐轻轻地在画面中流淌,男主角的画外音悄然响起:Even now, even here I recognized it—my favorite hour in the camp. And I was filled with a sharp, painful and helpless feeling. I felt homesick. Yes, in a certain sense life there was cleaner and simpler. Those who saved me came back to me. For the first time I thought of them with mild resentment, a kind of affectionate grudge. But let's not exaggerate. I accept every argument for the price of being able to live. I looked around in that gentle, dusky square, at that storm-tossed street which nonetheless held so much promise, I felt the readiness gather within me. I would continue this uncontinuable life of mine. I remembered my mother had plans for me to become an engineer, or a doctor. And that's what will happen: there's nothing too unmaginable to endure. And in my own way I already know that, lying in wait for me like some unavoidable trap, is happiness. Even beside the chimneys in the pause between torments there was something similar to happiness. People only ask about the horrors in the camp, whereas I should talk about the happiness of the camps next time if they ask. If they ask at all. And if I don't forget myself.