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雙語《遠去的羣山》第四章(冰夫/朱文正)
作者:进生  发布日期:2020-11-10 14:44:50  浏览次数:227
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附言:七绝(一)

一方神袛一方土,七瘸八颠故乡魂;可怜无定河边骨,总教回望认昆仑。

七绝(二)

涛激浪涌飞花梦,光影明灭炫长虹,天地无边须臾看,茫茫荡荡河汉中。

—诗友读后感(大陆)

第四章  神与爱神相遇在血火间隙

为什么命运之神注定,

不让我变化无常的诗琴,

只讴歌光辉的英雄业绩,

和那世界上无人知晓的

远古时代的友谊和爱情?

                          ——普希金

西伯利亚寒流,                        

汇合狼林山脉的风雪,

无情地捶打,

北朝鲜赤裸的胸脯。

 

长津江的流水,

告别黄草岭上

浓浓的雪雾,

滔滔向北,

穿过柳潭里山麓,

劈开下碣隅里峻岭,

奔入长津湖。

 

伟大的长津湖战役,

残酷的殊死搏斗,

曾令西方惊醒。

如今,隆隆炮声远去,

战线向南方推进。

美国飞机垄断天空,

密集的炸弹遍地开花,

死亡依旧笼罩着黄草岭。

 

山沟里,稀疏的农舍,

一片残骸灰烬。

松林中仅剩下一座茅屋,

屋后零零落落的地堡,

权当战地医院;

白衣战士,

在这里抢救生命。

 

难忘那个黄昏。

两个天使的声音,

唤醒梦幻中的曹牧云。

鲜血涂染的战壕,

一堆死亡伙伴的遗体中,

亲切泪水伴随雪花,

润湿年轻的面孔。

现在,见习医生江惠,

已经为曹牧云洗去血污,

初步缝合好伤口,

等待送回祖国医院治疗。

 

杨艺萍喂他稀薄的麦粉,

在星光暗淡的夜晚;

曹牧云咽下一口粥糊,

半睁半闭的眼中,

流露出一丝凄然。

仿佛在说:“看我多丢脸,

刚上战场就下了火线。”

 

杨艺萍是历经战火的老兵,

心中充满理解与同情。

她轻轻抚摸伤者的双手,

眼中闪过一缕柔情,

蕴涵着爱的火星。

 

他们在上海已经相识,

同住在西郊的军营;

曾经共饮黄浦江的流水,

军帽上缀有

同样的红五星。

杨是文工团的著名演员,

解放区来的老革命。

曹是新参军的大学生,

分配在报社采编新闻。

 

情爱矿苗蕴藏在深山,

天然的磁铁互相吸引。

有一天观看白毛女,

杨艺萍饰演喜儿,

倾倒了全场观众。

第一次接触革命戏剧,

连续几天,

曹牧云心潮难平。

他将台下留存的泪水,

写成一篇激情散文。

登在军部的《战旗报》上,

赢来无数赞誉声。

 

杨艺萍那天外出购物,

巧遇曹牧云在江湾小镇。

返回军营的途中,

他们漫步走过田野。

河边的丝丝垂柳,

轻抚水面波纹;

金灿灿的油菜花,

迷醉沂蒙姑娘的眼睛。

她说:“好美的江南,

真是‘人间仙境’。

生长在这里多幸福

哪像咱的山区贫瘠穷困。”

 

仿佛命运之神注定,

年轻人坦然真诚。

杨艺萍的一番话语,

深深触动曹牧云。

他贸然询问杨的身世,

一枚炸弹击中姑娘的神经。

 

杨艺萍若有所思,

缓慢的语调深沉感人:

“我的家乡在沂蒙山,

母亲曾说——

从小喝沂河的水,

稚弱,善良而温顺。

我是从噩梦里跑出的羊,

难逃血与火的里程。

 

“母亲说,那一年

燥热的风,

吸亁河水的夜晚,

蝗虫已将麦穗啃尽。

饥饿挟持风暴呼啸,

卷走了眼看到手的收成。

我和我的众多姊妹,

在大山里游荡,

寻枝摘叶,

梦想饱餐一顿。

 

“在遥远的战争年代,

谁,点亮一盏灯?

光照沂河岸边的高宅大院,

蒙山沟洼的村落茅棚,

苦寒农家的壮汉,

书香门第的儿女,

浩浩荡荡,

涌进抗日队伍。

清晨列队,巍峨的群山;

星夜前进,奔涌的河流。

他们曾是共和国的催生子,

也是三座大山的掘墓人。

  

“坚信智慧光芒,

在前招引,

三个姐妹和我,

跟随父亲的脚印,

走进鲁中军营。

演戏,唱歌,送情报,

无忧无虑的童年,

用真诚编织梦幻,

在自我欣赏中攀登。

 

“一场‘整肃’的灾难,

父亲魁伟的身躯遭受雷击,

雪峰崩溃的命运,

飘散的云朵向旷野逃奔。

姊妹们流落,

期盼无望的重逢。

 

“那一年秋天特别寒冷,

一片乌云浮在寥廓苍空,

第八纵队文工团奔行

在进军鲁西南的路上,

身后响着黄河滔滔的吼声。

我和妹妹被喊去谈话,

指导员说:‘你父亲

在隔离审查中自绝于人民。

你们虽然是他的女儿,

但自小就参加了革命;

党相信你们能站稳立场,

划清界线,爱憎分明。”

 

“妹妹哇的一声哭倒在地,

我顿时被五雷轰顶。

仿佛一只巨手

将我们扔下黄河,

污浊的罪名何以洗清?

到如今我也弄不明白,

这一切是怎么发生?”

 

杨艺萍一时弄不清,

为何将自己身世,

告诉眼前的年青人。

她当即有点儿后悔,

一转念,顿觉

待人理应真诚。

她天真无邪的明眸,

紧紧注视曹牧云。

仿佛在说:

“我刚才有些失态,

请理解我身世的不幸;

也请你为我保守秘密,

千万不再转告他人。”

 

曹牧云深深感动,

年轻的心充满了同情。

心仪之人对自己如此信任,

热烘烘的情愫勃然萌生。

战火映照红颜,

如爱神再生;

拜伦的诗句,

涌流上他的内心:

“她走在美的光影里,

好像无云的夜空,繁星闪烁;

明与暗的最美的形象,

交会于她的容颜和眼波,

融成一片恬淡的清光——

浓艳的白天得不到的恩泽;

多一道阴影,少一缕光芒,

都会损害那难言的优美……”

 

共鸣的心音撞击青年人。

他轻声述说身世,

话语文质彬彬:

“我想,应该告诉你

我的故乡在哪里,

出生在什么家庭?

 

“我自诩是江南浪子,

舞文弄墨稍喜追求虚名。

父亲是一家商店的会计,

母亲秉承书香门第的余荫,

擅长女红,略识诗文。

我是家庭的独生子,

从小在长辈夸奖声中前行。

祖辈是中州远古的贤哲,

连续灾难迁徙至金陵。

诞生在乡村的我  好似

秦淮河畔的一束芦花,

沐浴秋风漂白了全身,

全凭半工半读,

艰难迈进复旦的校门。

本是新闻系一年级新生,

跟随时代火红的激流,

毅然参加革命。

没想来到军队报社,

成为一名革命军人。

恰巧与你有缘相识,

也许是命中注定。”

 

这是他们在上海,

相识、相知的经历。

爱神丘比特用他的箭矢,

射中情侣的心灵。

 

曾几何时,他们

迎着狂暴的风雪,

怒吼的战火,

同步跨过

鸭绿江冰封的江面。

 

炮声使时间加速。

战争把一切改变。

一切为了胜利,

一切为了前线,

杨艺萍和几个战友,

临时抽调到战地医院。

她处处跟随着江惠,

悉心照顾伤员。

 

江惠给曹牧云换药,

细心体贴,无休无眠。

这位娴静美貌的医生,

家在苏州洞庭东山

翠峰环绕的古镇,

壮美的太湖波光闪闪。

村前一排银杏高耸参天,

屋后绵延着茶林竹园。

祖辈曾是江南名医,

悬壶济世,善名远传。

江惠自小由祖父悉心教养,

十八岁考进上海医学院。

跟随保家卫国的洪流,

来到部队野战医院。

 

Chapter 4

 

china1

 

Why the god of fate destines

That not let my chop- and- change lute

Only sing the brilliant heroic glories

The old and gray days’ friendship and

Love unknown by the world?

                             

                               —— Pushkin

 

The god of Death and Cupid

Cross at the gap between blood and fire

 

1

 

The chilly air masses

moving from Siberia towards begun to converge

On windy-snow of the Nangnim Mountains

Then over it beat down pitilessly

The naked frozen chest of North Korea.

    The winter waters of the Imjin River

Kissed the dense snowy-haze good-bye, which hung over

The Funchilin Pass then run down towards the north,

Twisting and curving through the foothills

Of the Yudam-Ni and a split-open of the steep hills

Of Xia TuJu-RI, finally, her stretched torrents

Poured in the Chosin Reservoir.

 

The great battle of the Chosin Reservoir

With thousands killed and victory winged death

Has shocked and made the West world awake since then.

Now rumbles of cannons fires echoed in the distance

And the battle went on deep into the south.

US warplanes freely flew over the winter blue skies

Their bombs dropped as rain-drops over the war-fields,

Around the Sudong Gorge,

The dying still kept the paces.

 

Deep in a rocky valley, there dotted a few houses,

Burned down Its walls

Of the earth with thatched roofs.

Beneath the unmasked sky only one house

In that pine trees left, behind it, there was

A group of bunkers,

Now they turned to be a war-zone hospital where

The military surgeons working together

To rescuer wounded lives.

 

Still could not forget that grey dusk when the voices

Of the two white-dressed angels in the war-fields

Waked the death-dreaming Cao Mu-yun who

Lay on a trench, where the darken blood

Spattered dirty snows among piles of dead comrades,

Then dimly saw the dear tearing eyes and

Wet young faces through the dancing snowflakes.

Now the military assistant surgeon Jiang Hui

Had cleaned up the wounds of Cao Mu-yun

And stitched it and waited the chance

Of transferring him

Back to the hospital in our motherland.

 

Beneath the dim night sky, Yang Yi-ping

Was feeding him with a soup of wheat flour;

Cao swallowed down one spoon of the soup smelling

Of wheat, His half-open eyes for

A glimpse of sorrow in a thing that mattered;

As to say:“see am I so bad luck just

Step on the battlefield

And then down quickly be wounded.”

 

Yang, sympathy-hearted, as

One of the fully experienced soldiers

Was softly patting the hand of the soldier, her eyes

Flashing a glimpse of tenderness, there

Was a sparkle of love in it, somehow?

 

There were days of Shanghai in The west suburb

Where there was one CA-camp,

When they had been drinking the same water

Of Huang-Pu River,

 On their caps shinning the same red star.

Yang was, as a famous actress, Rich-experienced

Revolutionary of one of the old liberated states,

And Cao was one of the correspondents,

A newcomer just from university

Now worked as a newsman, for the Army-Press.

 

Say some kind of lovers' ores

Buried in soul-mountains;

Like a natural magnet, they attracted each other.

One day when there was a show of drama named as

“The White - Haired Girl”, in it

Yang played the role of Xi'er,

And, her performing had won over all of the audiences.

That was the first time for Cao

Dealing with a revolution-drama, and he was

So deep in emotion that even a few days later,

With tears in his eyes

Yet he could write down an essay

That soon was published on the army-newspaper

“Battle Standard”, it sooner had made

Many fellow soldiers moved...

 

”That day when Yang Yi-ping went to shopping,

She'd occasionally met with Cao in the River-Bay town

Around; while on the way back to their camp, pacing

Across the rice-fields stretched the countryside on,

Willows its’ overhanging branches along the levees,

Dangled the ripples of the still-water; and her eyes

Indulged in the pools of bright-yellow rape-flowers.

She admired the rich fields:

“So beautiful of South of the Yangzi-River

Like heaven in the earth; living here

People are happy to be seen for sure.

And not like my home-mountaineers being so poor.”

 

Seemingly a showing of His elemental of God of

Fortune,the girl's soul was so honest and plain,

Her words of the telling like the life of

The earth deeply touched of his heart the strings,

Making him ask more about her origins,

But that was straight as a bomber hit her nerves.

 

Flew out from her deep-thoughts her words

as a valley river slowly flowing in a copse:

“My hometown is in Yi-Meng Mountain—

Mother said people drink the Yi-river water

Growing up with since born, her children even thin

But meek in young kindhearted.

like a little sheep from a mad-dream,I run out,

On miles of the mountain seasons, the bloody-burnt.

 

“Mother said—that year

When hot winds dried up the river

Locusts ate up the wheat-ear in the night,

Gone with the hunger wind the harvest

From farmers’ finger-tips.

I wandered along with many mountain-girls

And hardly a day went by when I didn’t

Find a tree branch some leaves,

The could-be-mouth-watered food

To eat as in dreams.

 

Who in the early war-age had been lighting up

A warm pinpoint of light, radiant on quaint houses

Mud-cotes along of Yi-river the levees in valleys,

Then The rich or the poor, sons and daughters,

The well-educated or Broad-shouldered mountaineers

All gathered together

Rushing against the invaded Japan as

The waves break loud on the rocky seashore.

At dawn they lined on the mountain- tops

And at starry-night, run as the verdant valleys

Full of rivers. Being the creators of the republic as

Well as the diggers who would bury

“Three evil-mountains”

 

“Believing the sun shines always ahead,

Yet following father's step,  

We, three sisters and I together, entered

The “Ru-Zhong army-camp”;

Playing red dramas, sang red -songs

Or passed some secret pieces

Of information to “the right hand”;

As a happy childhood of sincere words

And of colored dreams—we saw ourselves

As others saw us.

 

“There were blood-cleaning wars fatal approached,

Among it, the lightning hit my father like

Hit a tall lone plant;

Like desolate clouds suddenly meet

An avalanche on mountains snowy-caped,

shocked, scattered by wind;—my sisters

Had parted away, each without a trace left.

 

“That year autumn was very chilly cold,

On the vast dull sky floated a dark cloud.

our art troupe of the Eighth Column in hasty,

On the way to the Ru-Southwest,

Letting the roaring sounds

Of Yellow-River leave far behind.

A political Instructor had called

My younger sister and me together, informed us

That our father died By himself as

A shielding isolator, betrayed our people.

But the party has believed his daughters

Because of you growing up in the revolutionary- style;

Party believes you both

Should stand in the right side with

The consciousness-raising self-examinations.

 

“My young sister cried out loudly and fallen down

On the ground; the while in tears I began

To tremble over as had a cold hand had gripped us

Threw into Yellow-river,

The dirty test of the fathomless sin

Since then, never be washed away!

How this could happen?

I never understand it until now.”

 

With the nature of humility,

With the fear of human history,

Yang Yi-ping, with a thought

To think of indistinctly,

Why telling all the things to him; and then

The sunshine of honesty in her large eye

Bright and trusty, like a window thrown open;

Her senses were still whole,

She watched closely to Cao Mu-yun

As if saying to him:

“I beg your pardon,being all at

Sea for a moment, for telling the life of mine;

Please keep the words in secret

And do not tell it to anyone.”

 

Cao Mu-yun, a young soul deeply moved,

Had filled with sympathy and the dearest trust

And then the hot emotion exuberant rooted

In his heart.When burning fires of the war-land

Refract on the unique blend

Of strength and femininity,

It is a reborn of a love- deity.

A few verses of George Gordon Byron

Waved into the core of his heart:

“She walks in beauty, like a night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes,

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace…”

 

The sympathetic responses as the heart-beatings

Had been pulsing in his green chest,that in turn

softly giving to his life-story place:

“I hope I could tell you about my hometown

And about my family and even more:

 

“Being a one

Of a self-styled something off the common,

A guy-smart in the things that mattered,

Aspiring a little name,

Writing good essays, I am well educated,

Whose father a shop accountant and

The mother from an ancient and

Scholar-gentry family,

So good with needle-work knowing a little poem;

I am the only, get used to being proud of my family

Whose ancestors used to have scholars good fame

Of the Zhong-Zhou's history,

 But some period of history

Had shifted to the Jing-Ling city

While a series of disasters happened.

I was born in the countryside as

A bunch of reed-blooms

Along of Qi-Huai the river levee,

Whiten by the autumn wind;

Through daily in half-working and then in the study

I got a chance to entering Fudan University

As a year-one student of Journalism,

Soon with the calls

Of the new era, be a revolutionary. I have become

A soldier of Chinese Army-Organ, now it is

What kind of luck to know you, be destined!”

 

That was the details of their connecting in Shanghai

And getting to know each other; that well

Showed the hint of Cupid's bow

Of a white reed-bloom of a boy and a mountain-girl.

 

Moments when blew and spun the snowflakes

Through distant rumbles

Of somewhere gunfire in the hills,

They had paced together across

Ya-Lu River's freezing surfaces.

 

Rumbles of gunfire sped the ticks

Of clock, the war changed everything now was

What people engaged merely to seize

a victory and,all for the fronts.

Yang Yi-ping with several comrades

Went to a field hospital and strictly after

A doctor Jiang- Hui as one of the urgent-helpers

Of taking care of the wounded- soldier.

 

Days and nights,nursing Cao Mu-Yun very well

In her considerations of a willow-pretty picture of

A young doctor, she born to the Dong-Ting East-hill

Of Su Zhou, An ancient town surrounded by a series of

Rich hills, in contrast of brightest sun glare

Lake- Tai of white-tipped waves; a line of

Maidenhair trees ofThe front of her village and,

Quite an extensive forest of

Bamboos and a belt of rolling tea-trees behind

Her aged house; on her family-tree,

There are branches of its Generations as

Local famous doctor golden-hearted.

Following her grandfather’s teaching since

 Her childhood, at age 18, Jiang Hui entered

Shanghai Medical College.

And then the patriotic huge waves of war pushed

Jiang Hui to the battle-field hospital.

(待續)




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