Author Archives: Yego

写这篇文章的时候，意外了解到另有几首同名的《Tal Nutag》，其中有乌仁娜（Urna Chahar-Tugchi）的版本，1995德国发行的，据说名气很大。我有些好奇，找来听了一下。不死不活的，听不下去。我在TikTok 上撞见的无名氏的弹唱，还有安达组合的演唱，都能带给我nutug，带给我那片故乡。在乌仁娜那里，没有。也许，这世上真的有所谓“为音乐而音乐”的音乐，只是我始终没有学会那样去听音乐。给一首歌取名叫故乡，里面却既没有故，也没有乡。也许吧。
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1 There are days when, for a few moments, you would appear before my mind’s eye. Just your face—so clear and vivid it felt as though I could reach out and touch you. The rest of the scene was a blur. It looked as if you were buried beneath ruins, like a survivor in theContinueContinue reading “How Are You Tonight?”

Tarag idegen-u amta niEejiin süünii shimteiTaliin jergelgen miraljagsanEejiin süünii shimtei 1 I once came across a little video on TikTok. In it, a pen in someone’s hand moved steadily across the page, writing a script from top to bottom and from right to left. Though I knew nothing about the language, I recognized the scriptContinueContinue reading “Nutug”

1 Years ago, I read a book called Events and Their Names. Says weddings, explosions, the killing of Caesar by Brutus, my being thrown for a loop, and your being a pain in my ass all morning—these are events. Says that there was a wedding, that there was an explosion, that Caesar was killed byContinueContinue reading “The Fate of an Event”

a house on Ursulines Avenuephoto © kat stromquist 1. The Times-Picayune The local newspaper in New Orleans is The Times-Picayune. For many years, I thought the title was chosen to convey a philosophy of time, and of our life in it: that every story reported in the newspaper was like a picayune—a small, insignificant thingContinueContinue reading “Time’s Picayune”

我眼前的西站，并不是马孔多。不是大地无情收回人类一度窃为己有的一切。恰恰相反。它是一个曾经真实存在过的地方，只是如今彻底被一个崛起的新世界所吞噬。新的道路。新的建筑。新的树木。新的时代。外科手术式的精确、整洁，几乎没有让旧日生活存下任何的痕迹。

那一天，世上曾经有过的一样东西，在我的心里死去了。

我爱你，阿霞依婼。
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献给阿霞——ꀊꎓꒉꅶ Prologue What do we owe the people who trusted us, even when life—not ill will—carried us away from them? 1 Lately, nearly every day, there would come a moment when Axia Yiruo would return, rising from memories of days long gone, days which I had thought were lost forever, no longer existing except perhapsContinueContinue reading “My Debts to Gods and to Men”

校工拿着他的手铃从他那间巴掌大的小屋里走出来，开始桄榔桄榔摇…
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The janitor came out of his little shed of a house and rang the hand bell. The chimes rang out loud and clear, echoing around the walled schoolyard where our junior high classrooms stood. This was the moment we had been waiting for all morning. We all jumped out of our seats and hurried toContinueContinue reading “2x+3y”