通向山上的石子路 / Cobblestone Path to the Mountain

Chinese

多少次,我走在这条通向山上的石子路, / 两边是青翠的蔬菜和高耸的冷杉树。 / 栅栏古老,盘着去年枯萎的丝瓜藤, / 仿佛人世最纯朴的情感。
几个乡下来的伙计在豆腐店里忙碌, / 他们的纽扣在阴湿的房子里闪亮。 / 中药库的红砖墙下,看仓库的老人 / 坐在藤椅上,仿佛锤炼了很久的诗句。
石子路上的孩子喊着妈妈, / 一条狗摇着忠实的尾巴。 / 院子的铁门前站着一个两颊冻红的妇女, / 是那种中国妇女独有的善良的红肿。
树梢,墓碑,静悄悄的, / 山坡上的草全黄了,连着蓝天…… / 什么时候我能放下笔, / 象它们一样获得奥秘的宁静?
啊多少次,我走在这条通向山上的石子路, / 我的双眼依然在寻找美德。 / 在山顶上,当我能够象落日一样平等地看着人世, / 当不幸,终于把我变成屋顶上的炊烟……

English

How many times have I walked this cobblestone path up the mountain,
laned by green vegetables and high spruces.
Ancient fences, entwined by dried luffa vines from last year,
like the most authentic simplicity in the world.

Few fellow villagers are busy in the tofu shop,
their buttons glittering in the damp space.
Under the red brick wall of the herbal medicine warehouse, an old warden
sits on a wicker chair, looking like verses chiseled for a long time.

A child on the cobblestone path calls for mother.
A dog shakes its faithful tail.
By the iron gate of the courtyard stands a woman with red frosty cheeks —
the kind and unique redness that only Chinese women have.

Treetops, gravestones, quiet.
Mountain grasses have withered, bordering the blue sky…
When will I lay down my pen
and attain the secret tranquility just like them?

O so many times I’ve walked this cobblestone path up the mountain,
and still my eyes are looking for virtues.
On the mountaintop, when will I be able to look at the world like the setting sun,
when will misfortune finally turn me into chimney smoke above the roofs…

Printed from Cerise Press: http://www.cerisepress.com

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