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Snowman (2017.9.28-9.29)

(2017-08-26 11:13:19)
分类: 散文


In the past, the sunset was so bright in the winter; children made snowmen, and left them alone, shimmering in the sunshine.

 

无立足境,是方干净。

 

 

The balanced life


Reborn...

 

 

 

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Sunny & Clear

 



流浪者·小鸟之墓

 

       第一幕

      

       流浪者远离人群,向山上走去。

       她站在山上,任风吹拂。

       回忆,家中的小屋,夜里,橘黄的灯光……

       舞蹈。童年天真的回忆,阳光。

       一只蓝色的鸟,落在白色的雪上,轻掸红趾。

       深蓝的天空,小屋。树枝,月亮。

 

       第二幕

 

       过去的不可寻。

       点火,想象中点火,在想象中痛苦地点火。燃烧。整座房子熊熊燃烧。她的燃烧。黑夜中,回忆的燃烧。

       火焰。痛苦,人的影像不断纷纷出现。痛苦的舞蹈。

       撕裂的舞蹈。

       鸟飞出火焰,挣扎着,沉重地挣扎着,轻飘飘地落下来。鸟飞不出火焰。鸟遍体鳞伤,像她自己一样。鸟是从她的心中飞出来的,是住在她心中的小鸟。

 

       第三幕

 

黑白世界。黑色的舞台光中,慢慢飞出一只小小的白色蝴蝶。双手追寻它。

身体慢慢往后飘。阴影。光之格纹,身体漂在世界的一角。不能控制自己的身体,空旷的黑白世界,不能向前也不能向后漂浮,手指向前延伸,但身体悬着,被风吹着向后漂浮,身体微微地向下鼓荡。渐渐地,彩色光影浮现。

       小鸟之墓,宁静地落在不远处。

       坟冢上飘着羽毛。

黑白的光纹。变成蝴蝶。彩色的蝴蝶,聚集在树上,让树变得彩色而美丽。墙壁上的旧拖把,一切旧物,被彩色光影覆盖。彩色的蝴蝶,阳光,一种永恒的感觉。宁静的舞蹈。

彩色的蝴蝶,翅膀轻轻地颤动。斑驳阳光,一种永恒的感觉。宁静的舞蹈。

       但小鸟之墓依旧蓝色而寂静,墓上没有彩色阳光,坐落在那里,寂静的纯色,唯有羽毛轻轻飘拂。

 

       第一幕与第二幕之间的落幕,轻轻地暗一下。第二幕与第三幕之间的落幕,黑暗的时间久一些。

 



The drifter·The tomb of a little bird

 

         Act one

 

         The drifter left the crowd and walked up the mountain.

         Standing on the mountain, she felt the wind blow.

         There’s a little wooden house there.

         How beautiful the memory was… the innocent memory of childhood, the sunshine and the butterflies…

         A blue bird with red paws fell on the white snow.

         The dark blue sky, the cabin, branches and the moon…


        Act two


        What has passed away will not come back again.

        She lit the little wooden house in her imagination. The wooden house was burning in her imagination. That’s the burning of her memory in the night, that’s the burning of herself.

        Flames, and her pain... Memories and images of different people kept reappearing in her mind. She was dancing on the mountain for pain and tearing.

        The little blue bird flew out of the fire, struggling heavily, finally fell gently. The little bird could not fly out of the flames. It was hurt badly like herself. The little bird flew out of her heart. It had been living in her heart for a long time.

 

         Act three

 

         It was a black and white world. From those dark lights a tiny white butterfly flew out. The dancer’s fingers kept chasing the butterfly.

         The dancer’s body flew towards back slowly. There were stripes of lights and shadows. Her body was floating in a corner of the world. She can’t control her body in this vacant black and white world; she can’t float back or forth. Her fingers were extending forward, but her body was hanging in the wind. Gradually, the emergence of colorful lights can be seen.

         Silently, the grave of the little bird was located in the distance.

         A feather was floating above the tomb.

         The stripes of black and white lights were becoming colorful bit by bit. Colorful butterflies gathered on the tree, making the tree look beautiful. An old mop was hanging on the wall; all the old things were covered by colorful lights. The butterflies, the sunshine, a feeling of eternity… The dance was tranquil.

         The dance was tranquil. There were colorful butterflies, wings shivering softly. There was mottled sunshine, a sense of eternity.

         But the tomb of the little bird was blue, still and silent, no colorful sunlight on the tomb. The tomb was located there in silent solid colors, only the feather above it was fluttering softly.

 

         Between act one and act two there was a quick break of darkness; between act two and act three, there was a longer break of darkness.

 


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