朝鲜战争灾难的不幸弃儿
狂暴的阿基诺河在河口旁边，
发现了我的冻得发硬的尸体，
把它抛入阿诺河，我在不胜痛苦时
在胸前形成的十字架也就松开：
河水卷着我沿着岸，在河床上冲去，
泥泞和沙石把我掩埋和裹住。
——但丁《神曲·炼狱篇》
奥地利边境的风，
吹拂郁金香芬芳的气息；
躺在初夏花园树篱边，
他们融入蓝天沉思。
阿尔卑斯山雪峰，
古老历史的见证人；
仿佛在谛听两个寻梦者，
荒唐人世的密语。
比利时商人祁昌，
略带羞愧地，
告诉老友曹牧云：
“我不是富有的商贾，
只经营比荷边境
一家普通的唐人餐馆。
儿子大学已经毕业，
正服兵役布鲁塞尔的军营。
女儿是皇家医院护士，
从小有一颗悲悯救人的心。
“春秋转瞬，
五十载我操持寒暑；
时光易老，
半世纪我识透人生。
“初踏欧罗巴富饶的土地，
得力于温州老华侨的搀扶。
飘萍幸遇因斯布鲁克的和风，
让我在阿尔卑斯山下扎根。
从维也纳到布达佩斯，
多瑙河叙述斑斓的历史。
我闯荡过英格兰。
在西西里岛也曾几度惊魂。
比利时连接荷兰的边境，
一个普通小镇，
一家唐餐馆，
终止我流浪的旅程。
“曾经死去的记忆，
常在梦游中华时复苏。
初春，莫干山中挖笋；
酷夏，长江口军营泅渡。
曲阜深秋练兵，
孔林树冠栖息的白鹭，
长白山严冬挖掘冻土，
镌刻着青春的彩图。
最难忘文工团来连队演出，
浪漫夹杂略显幼稚的迷糊。
“一生漫长的漂泊，
我始终为生活四处奔波。
无数次梦归浙南家乡的竹林，
溪流映照的白色小屋。
关于我的身世，你
曾看过档案，一清二楚。”
曹慕云面对昔日的战友，
今日的华裔商人祁昌，
凭借战地记者的习性，
深藏的记忆浮现一幅幅图像。
“祁昌，浙南山村的儿子，
放牧祖传的猪羊，
也放牧世袭的贫寒。
期望沿着山前
那条清幽的峡谷，
带着童年梦幻的碎片，
远离了群山怀抱，
徜徉在陌生的海边。
“从小山村走向大上海，
码头杂工，街头报童，
练就深邃的目光，
坚韧的脚板。
跟随扭秧歌的人群，
走进红旗飘扬的军营。
“向前，向前，向前，
我们的队伍向太阳。
……
1950年欢腾的十月，
人间风云骤变：
共和国刚走出摇篮，
迎面扑来战争的硝烟。
“祁昌，一名普通士兵，
被西伯利亚寒流裹挟，
穿行狼林山脉的冰雪之间。
与那些身穿单衣，
怀揣忠诚的壮士一起，
面对死亡，爬过高山，
披着冰雪，爬过草丛，
爬向恐惧与无畏。
未忘新生共和国的嘱托，
无悔母亲悲情的泪水，
在长津湖新兴里的山坳，
迎战美军“陆一师”的坦克，
跌落进雪堆凸凹的堑壕。
“扣开手榴弹，
牙关咬紧。
腰间的血汩汩流淌，
雷轰电击，烟雾缭绕，
死神又向山谷卷起怒涛。”
二次战役这一段经历，
曾被曹牧云写成战地报导。
而在五次战役的表现，
更使祁昌获得英雄称号。
世人皆以为他已阵亡，
谁知阎王仍然将他逐出阴曹。
Chapter 9
Near its mouth, River Archiano found the hard-frozen
Body of mine and, ragingly swept it into Archiano,
Made me lose the cross that my arms crossed for on
My chest after the pain overcame me. Along Its levees,
Waves rolled me forward yet sank my frozen Body into
Its dim depth, letting its dirty silt covers me.
——Dante Alighieri"The Divine Comedy（Purgatorio）"
An abandoned son in the Korea War-Misery
From the Austria border the early summer breeze
Blew with the sweet-smelling of tulips
Of the garden；laying down along its hedges
Their thoughts
Integrated into the blue skies.
The Alpine snow-cap an eyewitness of
The ancient past seemed to listen to the
Hearty-whispers of their war-lives of
The two born dream-seekers.
As a Belgium businessman,
Qi-Chang told his old friend Cao Mu-yun
Seemingly In the manner of shame:
“I am not a rich man but
Own one small Chinese restaurant
Not far from the nearby border of Belgium and Holland.
My son after graduated from Uni now in service
Of the army camp in Brussels and my daughter
Is a nurse of the royal hospital, a soul since
Her childhood filling with mercy.
“After spring until autumn follows, soon
Fifty years of the hot days and cold,
I have kept them to begin
Showing what this world would do for me?
”Remember that first time put my feet
On Europe soils rich,
With the great help of the old
Oversea Chinese of my hometown Wen Zhou like
Lucky duckweed in the gentle breeze of Innsbruck,
Allowing me to put my roots under the foothill
Of the Alps and, from the Vienna to the Budapest,
The Danube River. That has been full
Of the colored history; even the soils
Of England that I have tried but there were
The Worst things encountered in Sicily.
The little town near the border
Of Belgium and Holland
And a small Chinese restaurant
Have made me end my roving journey finally.
“Died memories often revive in the dreams
Of to wander around the fatherland；
Early spring days and bamboo shoots
Of digging of the Mo-Gan mountains;
Hot summer days of swimming of the mouth
Of Yangzi river near Army camps; later autumn days
And Chufu region of training of troops;
Tree crowns of white egrets of Confucius Woods;
And bitter winter the Ever White Mountains
Of digging of the frozen earth;
Some sort of colors of Youthfulness engraved.
Those shows of the ACT in our company I have always
Remembered, as a green romantic
In the keen-eyed of it.
“For living my life-long roving endless
Past with countless dreams of bamboo trees
And of a white house refracted on quiet streams
In my hometown, you know in South Zhe-Jiang. Yes,
You know all about my history because
You had read all my files.”
Listened to the voice
Of Qi-Chang of an oversea businessman,
Cao Mu-yun as a was-Warfield reporter still could
Cleary recalled all details about his past and
Repictured of it the was-Warfield -comrade.
“A son of villagers
Of the south Zhejiang mountain region
Daily gazed on his family cattle, sheep, and pigs,
That had gained nothing for a generation
To generation but of the poor the cries
And the wishes of the boy run
along a winding ravine in front of a mountain,
Parted from the embrace of it even as broken
Pieces to stand on a strange seaside.
“Toward the rich Shanghai left
A little hillside village,
Then on a dock began as hired hands and,
As a street newsboy with thoughtful eyes
In the paces on solid ground;
One day following The People in yangge-dancing
He joined the Army, red-flags fluttering.
“Onward, onward, and onward
Our troops go forward and the sun ahead
…
Golden-glowing October 1950,
The whirlpool to seek misfortune crashed on
This earth While our young country just
Left her cradle and the war was closing in.
“While Siberia winter set in, the north wind blew at
Their backs and into the marrow of their bone; as
An ordinary soldier he and those Good-natured
Loyal young troops wearing forage caps
And quilted jackets
Moved along the battalion front of snowy-icy Nangnim
Mountains, Dashing up the sides of ancient hills
And, walked through meadows
More with ice in the grass,
run over the rocks and gullies
Faced up the open death to outflank the enemy;
To achieve his vow to the newly born country
And the tearing eyes of his brave mother.
Thrust south
To the col of Sinhŭng-ri of Chosin Reservoir,
Ambushed the tanks
Of the US First Army, but he fell down
A deep trench within concave snowdrifts or the convex.
“Hurled one, two hand grenades,
Teeth Clenched, blood from his waist;
Thunder lightning, shells and rockets:
Death stretched of the valleys with dark
Smoky Clouds of a hail of napalms.
His brave experience
Of the second military campaign
As reported by Cao on
The Battlefield News also the fifth's
Made him a hero, whom People thought had died on
The fields but no one knew deaths
Gate shut him without any mercy.
