Category Archives: récits

有很多年，小时候，五公里对我来说，就是从小镇边缘的任何一个地方，到镇子北边公路经过的山脊上那棵老朴树的距离。换句话说，那棵老朴树之于我，就像南极之于沙克尔顿，天上的星星之于东方三博士，黄金国之于西班牙征服者，风车之于堂吉诃德·德·拉曼恰和他那个傻了吧唧的跟班桑丘·潘萨👆点击文章标题阅读全文👆

1 For many years, five kilometers was, to me as a small child, the distance from any point on the outskirts of town to the old hackberry tree that stood on the ridge far to the north. Put another way, the old hackberry was to me what the South Pole was to Shackleton, the starContinueContinue reading “The Hackberry on the Ridge”

这时候赞美诗已经唱完，牧师正在讲道。我听见了保罗的名字，也听见了以赛亚的名字。来做礼拜的大多上了年纪，其中很多是妇女。每个人面前都摊开着一本《圣经》。我心里有一种惊异。就是这个地方。母亲曾经在这里做护士；刘医生曾经在这里给我拔过牙，把我拔得泪流满面；小时候我曾经在这里东游西逛，等着母亲下班。而在这一切发生之前许多年，母亲自己还年轻的时候，曾经在省城读护士学校，而那所学校所在的房子，也是教会的房产。就在那一霎那，我听见了《以赛亚书》65章1节：👆点击标题阅读全文👆

1 My earliest memories of Mother weren’t of me at her breast, or of me at her breast seeing my siblings’ faces turn pale because she was not nursing them but rather me, or of Mother chasing after me because I had forgotten to bring in the chilies spread out on a mat that sheContinueContinue reading “I Am Found”

光秃秃的教堂墙壁。泥泞。马匹。远处，一条河，一片黑沉沉的土地。旷古的荒寂。两条腿已经坐僵了。我站起来，在房间里来回踱步。屋里光线昏暗。墙上挂着几幅小小的带框的画：不知道什么地方的风景，不知道什么地方的一座村庄，一座桥，一片斜阳。远处的墙角摆着一架老钢琴。我走过时，按了一个琴键，心思却不知道在哪里。又按了一下。

Moderato cantabile。如歌的行板。

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мать 1 I watched four, not three, Russian movies that freezing winter in Utica. I’m sure it was four, not three. I know I’m not wrong about it, and I can’t be wrong about it. I don’t get things of this type wrong. If I did, it would be inconceivable. It would be like gettingContinueContinue reading “The Missing Fourth”

今天，8月25，吃晚饭的时候，听到 Dolly Parton 去世的新闻。我想说点什么，可一开口，声音就颤了起来，嗓子也哑了，眼睛开始发潮，几乎就要轻轻地抽泣起来。我不想让妻子看见我这个样子，只好拼命把情绪掩饰过去。到底掩饰住了没有，我也不知道
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me, my bmx, ‘n my skateboard I learned of Dolly Parton’s passing tonight at the dinner table. I tried to say something, but my voice trembled and became hoarse, my eyes grew moist, and I found myself teetering on the edge of a soft sob. I didn’t want my wife to see me like that,ContinueContinue reading “BMX Biking with Jolene”

一个陌生人。看上去很年轻。年轻到什么程度？你要是仔细看，甚至还能从她的神情里看出些许未成人的样子——一丝不自信感，些丝疑虑，仿佛对自己这么年轻就要走进成年人的世界，甚至走进做母亲这件事，还没有完全准备好。再看那张嘴，那两片微微开启着的嘴唇，前面那些让人想到成熟感的东西，又都瞬间又消失了，余下的唯有未经世事的天真与稚气。
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1 I’m looking at this picture of this young woman, probably taken when she was twenty-five, or no older than twenty-six. Lately, I’ve been looking at it quite a bit. But the more I look at it, the more confused I become. I don’t mean I’m getting confused about the identity of the person inContinueContinue reading “Portrait of a Stranger”