There was a trunk , only a meter long stock without any gloss over, rough and black barks somehow still remained with wrinkles in its body.There were several jagged edges and some empty gouges so much as scor ches as people could clearly see.It lies on the earth without any inkling for other parts that once it belonged to. Where were the huge roots in the earth and where was huge crown in sky? I asked the previous landlord, a very correct-looking gentlemen---very stiff-upper-lip sort of fellow, why for s o many years he’d still kept it in his large backyard? He looked into my eyes and told me of what he knew about this trunk was that belongs to an ancient tree, very rare. Although he did not know too much about it, he really admired the quality of the trunk:” You can see, It’s very hard more like st eel, yet somehow so peculiar beauty……..To put it another way, she is not standing in your way……might she had grown up here or shifted to here by somebody, I don’t know, you are so understanding ….”He said tolerantly with finished manners, and paused, and glancing at me in a friendly but forthright m anner;his eyes were as clear as the blue sky. As our eyes met across a no gap, we could have something in common while we certainly didn’t have our ages in common. Touched by his warmth and, I was br ight enough to know that the previous master wanted me to keep it perhaps just like he did so far. W e both were silent for a while, I knew then we made a deal. 

I had been working so hard to landscape my new yard. I was in a meadow; and a yard full of plants and bushes. Because the trunk has occupied the centre of my backyard, I tried energetically to shift it a little away but it was too heavy to be moved. This  part  of body has sunk onto the earth which showed me that I should not try a second time.  I’ve accepted the fact that in my garden  

Sometime I stood in front of it, thoughtfully, watching those several jagged edges and some empty gouges. But in my eyes they were valleys, mountains and cliffs;  secret codes hiding inside. Shaking it always took muscle tension and       dreadful fatigue. Yet the feeling of its weight made me respecting its unique and rock-firm.

It was not uncommon to see a storm pelted earth with rain. There were the torrential rain and the violent winds that had endured through the livelong night﹐seemed yet to turn upside down the house and intruded into to my mind . When the rain was lashing down, I went to windows and  saw the rolling mist beyond the rain-spattered looking glasses; I heard the wind crying which lay waste the garden. Through the dim light the little world could not bear the lash of storm; the trees remained bent in a show of nature’s fearsome strength, such that caused trees shivered, few leaves, golden and russet, were scattered on the lawn﹐the garden full of bushes and plants with burgeoning beauty that would just looked much like a piece of paper at any time that could be flying away in air. But there was a lightning flashed which took some snap shots of the scenes of that stock which calmly lying on the earth, the dark rainwater-soaked body glomming pale. I could see a world in it: there were some empty gouges where the downpour of rain right now running down as alongside many valleys; there were many streams and there were the widen rivers flowing, like even you could hear the drumming of the raindrops. She was there distinguished  herself with her silence, so singular﹐like a beautiful black desk stone which helping to hold the sheets of paper on the desk against the breeze winds from open window。

She was there, as an unyielding shadow; like a rock still relaxed in this yard. When I watched this stock, suddenly, I became aware of that because she went through countless times already, for the past, for the present, for the future. The scenes reflected the lyrical sensibilities of the feelings that human also had in harsh life especially touched me, as a glimpse of forever and as if left dews on grass in an east wind.

 Every time I set down to watch in my large garden along, I like to choose setting by the rough bark- trunk; even the unanswered questions still flashing through my mind , that as long as I hold the trunk in my garden, I choose no care it anymore.

 I like the old trunk stays in front of my eyes; yet the trunk is unable to intervene or speak; perhaps was able simply to be and to constitute, and vividly being inside me, making me experience very much the feeling of the peace. And I know my roots. 　 

《译自《花园里的遗木》》

《花园里的遗木》（译稿）

        我將歡喜和辛勞注入花園﹐草地便平坦而年輕﹔許多苗圃裡的新的成員被邀請了進來﹐用各異的新葉﹑花朵和果實裝點這一方世界。那段巨木﹐佔據着園子的中央。我曾艱難地嘗試將它移動﹐太沉重了,我也被它在兩邊草地上留下的明白無誤的壓痕而制止。我明白﹐整個院落裡﹐只有它﹐才有着我無法進行細節描述的已往。它一定是轟響着倒下的﹐砸下來的巨大樹冠會倒在哪裡﹖那得以支撐和供養了如此巨大樹身的地下王國又在哪裡﹖这是个今天的人们再也看不到的却是存在过的事实。我環顧院落﹐沒有些許痕跡可以幫助我確定它原來的座標(我想起了原主人也有的困惑表情)...之後,它就被肢解,大部份消失了,偶然留下這樣的一段,身上還有半途而廢的鋸痕,宣示着有过繼續肢解它的企圖﹔但現在，命運將它托付給了我。

       常常地,我站到它面前,沉思起來,仿彿那些人类留给它的创伤和满身彎曲宛若懸崖峭壁的褶痕裡有着解讀的密碼,而由脹緊的肌肉傳遞过来的異乎尋常的沉重,是讓我能感受它內裡的緻密﹑堅硬。

        自然界有的是风雨。有過狂風暴雨的夜晚，整個房子象要被掀翻。那風雨竄入我的腦海﹐撞擊着心扉。站在窗前﹐雨水不斷線地滑下玻璃﹐透過朦朧的光線﹐我看到花園裡一片慌亂。那些小樹﹐東搖西擺﹐隨風狂舞着枝條﹐葉片和花朵脫落了, 飄零在草尖亂抖的地上。小小的花園就象隨時會被風騰空捲起的一片單薄的紙。頻頻的閃電﹐從黑暗中奪出那段遗木橫放的身姿, 黑黝黝﹐透濕裡反映出白光。雨水打進它深深的褶痕﹐象暴雨沖刷崇山峻嶺而被歸入深沟峽谷。它躺在那兒﹐紋絲不動﹐象一塊在周遭顫栗屈服中拱出來的石頭﹐宛若摆放在案头的一方黑色的鎮紙石，在敞开的窗户吹进的风里维护起案头的一迭纸。

       胸中風雨的肆虐忽然消失了,惟有安祥和潤濕.就像看到东风里草尖上挂着的露珠般感动。我想起,這樣的場面,它是經歷過無數的。无论是在过去，无论是在现在还是将来，它有過強大的根基。

       每當我獨自在花園裡坐下﹐我常選擇坐在它的一邊。

    　在這種時刻,老問題會剎那間在腦海掠過,但我不再介意那答案。

       我喜歡它就在我眼前﹐遠古時它活在我內心裡。它一直以来默默无言，却能带给我内心的平和与宁静——我知道我的根在哪里。