母亲是一座丰碑, 作者:舒洁
[原文]
Mother is a monument(1), by
Mr.Shujie
1.
母亲去世五年多了。
从任何一种意义上说,对于我,这都是一个难以用语言表达的时期——在这个世界上,没有什么比痛失母亲更艰难的现实了。所以,每每在现实与精神两重世界陷入绝对的孤寂,在没有谁与我倾心对话时,我就选择与记忆中的母亲对话。
母亲生前就是如此,她是不会拒绝我的,哪怕她正在病中——
母亲躺在病床上,我和母亲说话并与她对视。
这是我留在高原某个夏天的记忆。
Mother has already departed for five years.
From whatever meaning, for me, it was an indescribable period--on
this world, there is no reality harder than the pain of mother’s
eternal leave. Thus, whenever both of the real and spirit worlds
got into absolute solitude, no one heartily talked with me, I would
choose to talk with mother in memory.
During lifetime, just in this way, mother would not decline me;
even she was in sick--
Mother lay on sickbed, I talked with her and looked into her
eyes.
It was the memory that I retained in a summer on plateau
那是五楼内科病房,我的瘦弱的母亲躺在窗前。常常发现母亲一个人坐起来,面对着房门,等我们到来。母亲病床不远处有另一道门通向狭窄的阳台。有时,母亲会说,我不怕烟的,你抽烟吧。
站在阳台上点燃一支香烟,我望着楼下错落的建筑。目光掠过屋脊,我可以看到流淌的老哈河……在异乡的许多夜晚,当我写作诗歌时,我是将老哈河视为母亲的。她是象征,是我的灵魂可以依托的母体——只能是母体。
楼下有一些高大的柳树,生长在楼房与楼房之间。借助于楼房的高度,我可以望见柳树的冠顶。应该说,我看到了令我感动的美丽。以往,在楼下的道路旁,那些柳树是被我所忽视的,我并没有觉得哪棵柳树具有鲜嫩而蓬勃的美丽。
That was the medical ward on the fifth floor; my emaciated mother
lay by the side of window. Oftentimes mother sat
up alone, looking at the room door to wait for
us. Nearby mother’s sickbed there was another
door leading to the narrow veranda. Sometimes,
mother said, “I am not afraid of smoke, and you have no hesitance
of cigarette.”
Standing on veranda with a cigarette ignited, I looked at those
strewn buildings. Sight skimming over ridges of
roof, I could view the flowing Laoha River...... Many nights in
strange land, I had exactly regarded Laoha River as mother when I
composed poems. She was the symbol, mother's body
that my soul could rely on –could just be mother's body
only.
There were some tall willows, growing among
buildings. With aid of the height of building, I
could view the tree crown of willows. Should say,
I saw beauty that vibrated me. In the past, by
downstairs roadsides, those willows were disregarded by me, and I
did not think any of those trees possessing the fresh and vigorous
beauty.
或许这就是高度总是令人神往的原因?
世间就是如此,变换一个角度看同一种事物,通常会使我们的感觉发生变化。
看人是否也该这样呢?
在我观望那些树木的夏天,母亲在我的身后望我。对于母亲,我是另一类树木。母亲是曾对我说,我没有想到你们一个个会长得这样高大。一个母亲喜悦的心理就是这样表达的。母亲说这句话时神情肃穆,她站在那里,手扶着桌子的一角,仰头望我。就在那一天,我对母亲说,妈,你已经老了,再不要活得那样小心了。母亲想了想,然后否认。母亲说,我不是小心,我是看着你们高兴。
Perhaps this is the reason of height often firing
one’s imagination?
The world is in this way, looking at the same thing from another
angle, usually get our feelings changed.
Should look at person alike?
In the summer that I viewed on those trees, mother looked at me
behind. For mother, I was another kind of
tree. Mother had told me, "Had not thought that
you all would grow as tall as this." A mother's
delighted sentiment was expressed in this way.
Mother said these words in quiet solemn look, stood there with hand
on the corner of table for support, looking upward at
me. Just on that day, I told mother, "Mom, you
have been aged, no longer need to live in such careful way."
Mother took a thought, then
denied. Mother said, "I am not careful, that is
happy to look at all of you."
独立生活之后,我们陪伴母亲的时间是越来越少了。
我们在这个世界奔波,为了简单的生存,我们从一个斜坡走向另一个斜坡;我们可以找出许多似是而非的借口开脱自己,我们早已经习惯于原宥自己,原宥我们焦灼或疲惫的心灵;作为人,我们往往在最艰难的时刻才想到母亲,我们知道哪里安全并可以休憩——那里没有惯常的冷漠与倾轧,没有陷阱,没有深含讥讽笑容的瞥视。
After living alone, our times of companying mother have been fewer
and fewer.
We hardly work in this world, for simple subsistence, we have
walked from a slope to another slope; we can find many paradoxical
excuses to vindicate ourselves, have been used to forgive
ourselves, forgive our hearts among either sear or tiredness; as
human, we usually think of mother at toilsome time only, know where
to take a rest peacefully—the place without usual coolness and
strife, neither snare nor the blink of smile containing
scoff.
母亲,惟有母亲可以使我们暂且忘掉那一切。
当我们失意的时候,母亲是不会指责我们的。她会安慰我们,以她朴素的生活感受激励我们懂得忍受或满足,不要与人争斗。
母亲总在祈愿我们平安。
我们的母亲,在我们为什么而忙碌的过程中慢慢地走向了必然的衰老。她们很少对我们要求什么,只在默默渴望与我们相聚的时间相对长些。一个母亲的晚年,难道是我们生活或事业的拖累吗?
在母亲老去的日子里,究竟什么是我们的事业?
在这世间,我们究竟该珍视些什么?
Mother, only mother could let us temporarily
leave aside all those.
Whenever we were frustrated, mother would not blame on
us. She would comfort us, with her native
feelings of life invigorating us to know toleration and content,
not to fight with others.
Mother always prayed for our
peace.
Our mothers, during the progress that we are busy for somewhat
gradually walk to inevitable senescence. They
seldom ask anything from us, but silently desire the time of
gathering together longer. The life sunset of
mother, could it be said that is encumbrance of your livings or
careers?
In days of mother getting aged, what actually are our
careers?
In this mortal world, what should we really cherish?
从人性的角度看一个人的一生是否成功,他的所谓的事业不是他所从事一生的职业;不是他赢得了多少掌声、仰慕或赞誉;而是看他在前人与后人的身上洒落了多少人性温暖的光照——
惟有那些创造了思想价值的人,才值得我们永远景仰。
而那些获得了所谓成功的人们,有谁能够理直气壮地回答那两个问题?
有一个问题始终令我困惑,有些人成功的唯一标志是为许许多多不喜欢他的人活了一生——也就是说,真心爱他的人并不希望他走向那个点上;他走到那里,仅仅是为了给不爱自己的那些人展示他人性的另一面——
他渴望表达的意思是,他到达了,而那些人没有到达。
这究竟有什么意义?
在这个世界上,哪一类人留下的遗憾最多?答案不必明说。
没有被人类记载的、也是最真实、最温情的历史,永远存在于母亲和孩子们中间。
就如此刻我与母亲的另类对话,这是冥冥的天定。
From the view of humanity, whether a person is success, his
so-called career is not the occupation that he has worked for whole
life, neither how much applause, admiration nor praise that he has
obtained; but how much luster of human warmth that he has sprinkled
on predecessors and successors.
Only those who created the worth of mind, merit our forever
reverence.
And among those people who have obtained so-called success, could
any one of them answer the two questions in right and
self-confidence?
A question has confused me throughout; some
people’s unique symbol of success is to live for
those people who do not love him—that means, those who really love
him do not want him walking towards the point; he arrives there
just for showing the other side of his humanity to those who do not
love him--
He desire expressing the meaning that he has achieved, ant those
people have not achieved.
What does it really mean?
In this mortal world, which kind of people had left the most
regrets? No need to give the answer.
Unrecorded by human, the realest and warmest histories as well,
eternally exist in between mothers and children.
Just like the different conversation in between mother
and me at this moment, that is imperceptible
destiny.
[译稿不足处,期望指正]
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