《老家》

文/任岳华（辽宁）

译/桂清扬（浙江）

Old Home

Written by Ren Yuehua

Trans. by Gui Qingyang

老家，是小时候和爸爸妈妈在一起的那个家。老家，那个土坯垒起高粱桔封顶的小小土屋，太小，太小，什么也装不下；而老家又是那么大，大得，就是我的整个天下；老家，是那么的清贫、寒酸，却又觉得是那么的快乐、温暖；那个狭小的、简陋的、贫困的、饥饿的、褴褛的老家呀，是我魂牵梦绕的、生根发芽的、悲喜交加的、无限敬仰的圣殿！

My old home is the place where I stayed with my parents during my childhood. It was a small adobe roofed with sorghum orange, too small to fit anything, while it seemed to be so big that I always regarded it as my whole universe. The home was poor and shabby indeed, but I just felt so happy and warm at that time. Oh my shabby home, no matter how small, how simple, how humble and how poor it was, it was definitely the shrine of my dreams, my growth, my joys and sorrows, and my infinite reverence.

五十年过去了，老家，仍然清晰可见、可闻、可触、可摸、可听……，不然，我怎么会经常梦回老家呢！而梦醒时分，却又是泪湿枕边巾，唏唏嘘嘘茫然感伤。明明清晰的父母兄妹欢聚在那么热乎的炕头儿上，真真切切拉实了父亲长满硬茧的手，咋就两行热泪瞬间淹没了一切呢，以至于妈妈的声音还在耳边、爸爸的余温还在我的手心里……。

Fifty years gone with the wind, the old home is still distinctively visible, audible, palpable and heart-touching. If not, how can I dream back to my hometown now and then? But whenever I wake up, my pillow is always wet with tears and I cannot support myself in misery. Parents, brothers and sisters gathered together on such a hot Kang built of stones or bricks, and I was actually pulling Father's calloused hands, with two lines of tears instantly drowning everything, and Mother's voice still echoing nearby, and Father's remaining warmth still comforting my hands......

门前柳，是我心中的常青树；老旱烟，是我不散的魂；妈妈饭前一声乳名的呼唤，那是我永生的亲切；爸爸肩上吱吱嘎嘎的扁担，是我骨子里的坚强！夜晚妈妈缝补连绽佝偻的背影，映在窗上，刻在我的心里！童年的夜是那样的静而黑，土坯屋那一灯如豆，却散发着农家人永恒的温情；妈妈把冰冷的棉袄捂在炕头儿，然后又轻轻的裹在我光脊的背上，那是我梦中妈妈永远的温柔；饥饿更觉得夜的漫长，而天未亮时厨房却飘来了诱人的面香，巧手的妈妈把难以下咽的苦菜和些碎糠杂面，竟然刮出好吃的煎饼……我甚至都在想，走回家的梦不要再醒，夕阳下小屋的炊烟永远那样安详……。

The willow in front of our door is an evergreen tree in my heart; Han Yan, a kind of tobacco, is my eternal soul; Mother's calling my infant name before dinner is ever-lasting kindness to me; Father's crunching pole on his shoulder is always the strength of my backbones! At night, Mother's back of mending the rickets was reflected on the window and engraved in my heart. The night of my childhood was always so quiet and dark, and the lamp of the adobe house radiated the eternal warmth of the farming family; Mother put the cold cotton-padded jacket over the Kang, and then gently wrapped it on my back of the light ridge, which was Mother's eternal gentleness and softness in my dream; hunger prolonged the night, but before dawn the kitchen was luring us with its aroma of noodles. Skillful mother crushed chaff miscellaneous noodles together with bitter vegetables, scraping out delicious pancakes...... I even thought that my dream of walking home should not wake up, and the smoke of the chimney under the sunset would be always so serene and peaceful.

记忆肯定是散碎而清晰的，童年不知愁滋味。那样的年龄与那个贫瘠的年代，零星的一点点的好，就那么容易把那个“好”一辈子扎根在脑海里了。不是吗！冬天再冷，土屋的炕永远是热的；炎夏再热，妈妈夜晚的蒲扇是风凉的；外面不管什么样的雪雨风霜，爸爸妈妈的屋总是宁静的。长大以后，对记忆中那个小小的土坯屋突然产生了敬畏！！！那是怎样清苦而艰难的年代呀！而再贫瘠的土地，我们兄妹四颗羸弱的种子，有爸爸妈妈用生命与汗水垒就的这方寸沃土，延展我们的生命，足矣！家，永远在……朦胧的柳梢头，轻轻的云朵上，幽幽的泥土中，飘飘的季风里……。

My memories must be scattered and yet clear, but childhood is not always aware of the taste of sorrow. At that age and at that barren time, any little bit of "good" would be rooted easily in the mind for a lifetime. Isn't it? No matter how cold it was in winter, the Kang of the earth house was always hot; No matter how hot it was in summer, Mother's cattail fan at night was always so cool; No matter it was lightening or thundering outside, the house of Father and Mother was always quiet. When I grew up, I was suddenly in awe of that little adobe house in my memory! What a bitter and hard era it was! And on that barren land as it was, our brothers and sisters, as four weak seeds, were lucky enough to extend our lives thanks to this inch of fertile soil cultivated with our mom and dad's life and sweat! Home is always on the hazy willow tip, gentle clouds, or in the quiet soil and dancing monsoon......

大了一点儿，会迎着晚霞静静地凝视着那一缕炊烟袅袅，那袅袅的炊烟渐渐的、渐渐的模糊了我的视线，直到不经意中滴下几许清莹的泪珠，凉凉的淌过我的面颊，垂落在院落的尘土中……。所以，那天我做了一个梦，梦见我迎着风雨在泥泞的田野里爬着、艰难地向前爬着，耳边掠过劲风的呼啸……。再大了一点的时候，我进了县城读书。记得临行前，爸爸妈妈忙活了一整天，晚上我睡下的时候，妈妈爸爸在昏暗的油灯下仍在悄悄的嘀咕着……熄灯的时候，妈妈的气息轻轻的贴在了我的脸上，爸爸不耐烦的嘀咕了一句:“净整那没用地，孩子明天还得早些赶路呢。”一滴湿润顺着我的眼角流入了我温暖的梦乡……。

When I was a little older, I would be facing the sunset quietly staring at the wisp of chimney smoke curling which gradually blurred my vision, until inadvertently dripping a few clear tears, flowing coolly through my cheeks, dropped in the dust of the courtyard. So that day I had a dream that I was crawling in the muddy fields in the face of the wind and rain, struggling forward, and hearing the whistle of the strong wind. When I was still older, I went to the county town to study in school. Before I left, I still remember, my mom and dad worked hard all day. Before I got to sleep at night, they two were still muttering quietly under the dim oil lamp. When the lights went out, Mother's breath lightly kissed my face, and Father muttered impatiently, "It's useless doing all that. The child will be on the road early tomorrow morning." A drop of moisture ran down the corner of my eyes into my warm dreamland......

后来，我穿着妈妈手工做的棉鞋，体面的走进了“较大城市”的一所中等专业学校，也唯一让我自豪的是，妈妈的手咋就那么巧，直到毕业了，对称缝补在前襟的两块褪了色的补丁，同学们一直没看出来，都以为是服装加工时的艺术设计呢。真的，女生都这么认为了。再后来，我又进了省城的一所学校……。

Later，wearing the cotton shoes handmade by Mum，I decently walked into a secondary technical school in a "bigger city", and the only thing that I was proud of is Mother's clever and skillful hands. Until graduation, no soul in my class could detect the symmetrical sewing in the front of the two pieces of discolored patches, taking for granted that it was the art of the garment processing design. Indeed, even the girls thought so. Sometime later, I entered a school in the provincial capital......

我的老家，是我来的地方。我真真的爱着她，依依的恋着她，深深的敬着她！我的老家，是我的根，是我的梦，是我整个灵魂的伊甸园。

我想，天之大，老家是最美的地方。

My hometown is where I came from. I really love her, deeply respect her and I am greatly attached to her! My old home is my root, my dream, and above all the Eden of my whole soul.

I reckon, in such a big world, my hometown is the most beautiful place.

编者按：

小编与作者都是警察，20多年前我在清河公安分局做侦查员时，他是一名开原市公安局刑警大队专职法医，我们在一次刑事案发现场相识。法医的工作性质大家都知道，我在此不做赘述，总之，这一次的侦破案件经历，让我对他肃然起敬。多年来，他无论职位高低，依然是初衷不改，一直奋斗在刑侦的第一线。我们的一个偶然相遇，谈起写作的事情，他用微信转发了自己散文《老家》和姊妹篇《柳树》。前段时间已经刊载到【开原古城网】《铁岭警芳》栏目。这两篇散文受到读者的好评，也引起了文学界一些知名学者的注意。小编和关东鹿鸣总编辑剑厚一致推荐给著名翻译家桂清扬教授，请他翻译成英文。

作者简介：

任岳华，男，一级警督，法医，文学爱好者。开原历史学会（筹委会）会员。

译者简介：

桂清扬，浙江外国语学院英语教授，香港岭南大学翻译学哲学博士，国家教育部公派英国诺丁汉大学访问学者。在《中国翻译》《中国科技翻译》《东方翻译》《光明日报》《人物》《书城》《秋水诗刊》《香港文学》《香港作家》《香港诗人》等重要报刊杂志发表学术论文、诗文、译文及诗评等三百余篇；出版专著若干种；出版译著《呼啸山庄》（世界文学名著典藏版，花城出版社）、《桂向明短诗选》（中外现代诗名家集萃，香港银河出版社）、《诗的対话：翠の三重奏》（Trio of Jade，主译，日本Junpa Books出版社）等。应邀为叶君健全译本《安徒生童话》珍藏版撰写“名家导读”，为原中国作家协会副主席黄亚洲诗集《狂风》作1.6万字长序。英汉双语诗《美瑛颂》入选《2018世界诗选》。

责任编辑：

开原历史学会（筹委会）负责人，开原市政协委员，《口述历史》电视系列记录片总导演、总策划、制片人，开原历史学会网 、雄安容河网、关东鹿鸣网、开原古城网总编辑 王义（天翼）