怀想那片青草地 赵红波 认识那片青草地，是一个早春二月里的日子1。 周围的一切还处于一派寂静之中。那片青草地却在不惹人注意的时候，以一种青春的蓬勃，悄悄地展延着生命的颜色，生长着这个季节之初所独有的鹅黄嫩绿。 春天刚刚复活，这片青草地宛如茫茫人海中久违的朋友，似严冬日子里的一丝温暖，给了一位从冬天走过来的孤寂旅人以新的生命、热爱生命的力量和勇气！ 草儿似乎刚刚出浴。鲜嫩的叶片上溜滑着一滴两滴的露珠，在春阳的映照下，折射出一片耀眼的晶莹，似一粒粒珍珠在熠熠闪光。微风清略湖畔的时候，露珠从叶尖上颤颤地滚落下来，使人想起杏花春雨里的千点万点晶亮亮的檐滴2，想起了生命成长的过程…… 我久久地伫立于湖畔，聆听一种生命悄然拔节的声音，心头如有暖流滚滚3！刹那间，心中的春天已是万木竞秀，繁花缤纷。我强烈地感受到：禁锢了一冬的生命正在苏醒，心扉灵府里渗透了一种全新的感觉，那些弱小但又顽强不屈的草儿，以其锲而不舍的执著，昭示出一种原始的壮美，使我真切地感悟到人生的真谛和生命的意义！ 倪楠和小雨这以后，沉寂的万千生命开始喧闹起来。那片小草，也纷纷地擎起了一面面青春的旗幡，沐浴着春风，欣欣然地欢舞，自由自在歌唱。我的干涸已久的心田，被这一片碧绿种满了生机。 于是，整个春天，这片青草地是我放牧心灵的绿洲，是我排遣尘间烦愁的安抚。看着草儿们一天天秀茁4，一如泰戈尔的诗句：“小草呀，你的足步虽小，但你却拥有你足下的土地”，我也有脚踏实地的充盈，如同小草一般，拥有我足下的土地5。 下雪的日子里，我独自守在窗前，默诵雪莱那“如果冬天来了，春天还会远吗？”的名句，看那一朵朵轻盈洁白的雪花，从铅灰色的冥空里无声地飘落下来，轻轻地覆盖在那片干枯的草地上，心想：那草儿来年一定会长得更茂盛的。 然而，那片给了我许多慰藉的青草地，已经永远从我的生活里消失了。消失于一次填湖筑路6生活的品味，创造另一种形式的美的过程之中。那些小草被毁灭之前，一定为生存的权利抗争过吧！正如契诃夫《草原》里的小草一样：“她说她热烈地想活下去，她还年轻……她会长得更美。” 但是，在力量悬殊的抗争之中，扼杀生命是易如反掌的事情。闭上眼，我能看到：那些半死不活、凋萎的小草，正在悲凉恳切地诉说着……讲到他们什么罪过也不曾有过，却要无辜地被人们毁灭掉…… 我不知道，那些善良的筑路人是否听到过草儿们哀怨的诉说？但我相信，那种哀怨的无声的诉说，一定是一种生命的绝唱7！ 如今，那条湖心小路蜿蜿蜓蜓，曲径通幽，有月光的夜里，树影婆娑。偶尔走在上面的时候，只要想起那片青草地，想起那些曾经寄我情思、慰我心魂的小草，我的心中总有一股悲壮的感受，仿佛足踏在草儿们的尸骨上英语听力网站8击壤歌，听到脚下灵魂痛苦地呻吟叹息！ 我想：假如生命终结之后确有灵魂存在的话，那么，这世上呻吟叹息的又岂只是那些小草的灵魂？ 现在，早春有一次来临，静谧的湖畔里又有星星点点的鹅黄嫩绿，悄悄繁衍着生命的碧翠。在历经自然和人类的双重肃杀之后，无数生命又将开始一个新的轮回。固然逝去的已经不复存在，而活着的又要为生命继续拼搏！ 其实，生命这种东西轰轰烈烈也好，默默无闻也罢，归根结蒂9，都不过是一种悲壮10的过程而已。正因为有了这种悲壮的过程，所以“太阳每天都是新的！” 我因此时常怀想那片青草地。 | Yearning for That Piece of Green Meadow It was a February day in early spring that I got to know that green meadow. Everything around the green meadow was tranquil when it discreetly, with youthful vigor, slowly and quietly displayed the color of life, light yellow and soft green, the characteristics of the beginning of this ason. Spring had just renewed; the green meadow, like a long parated friend from a vast a of faces or a breath of warmth during the freezing days of winter, gave a new life, and the life-loving strength, and courage to a solitary traveler just coming from the vere cold. The grass emed to have just been bathed; one or two dewdrops under the spring sun were rolling on the fresh leaves and showed a refraction of crystal-clear brilliance, like glistening pearls. Dewdrops trembled down off the tips of leaves when a breeze brushed over the lakeside. This reminded me of glittering raindrops falling from eaves in the spring rain, with the apricot blossoming and the growing cour of life… I stood for a long time by the shore of the lake, listening to the sound of life, with warm currents filling my heart. Suddenly spring inside me blossomed into luxuriance. I strongly felt that life was waking after being confined for the whole winter, and my heart was penetrated with a brand-new feeling. The pervering inflexibility of that, weak, yet indomitable grass, showed a primitive magnificence and beauty which helped me vividly realize the real esnce and true meaning of life. Afterwards, the thousands of silent and quiet lives began to bustle. And the grass, lifting up their banner of youth, and bathed in the spring breeze, danced cheerfully and sang to their heart’s content. My heart, which had dried up for so long, was filled with vitality from the green meadow. Then, for the whole spring, the green meadow turned to the oasis where I t my heart out for pasture and it brought me the comfort, which diverted me from the vexations of the world. Watching the grass grow stronger and prettier day by day, I recalled a line from Tagore’s poems: “Grass, small as thy pace is, thou hath thy own land under thy feet.” And I felt I had my feet planted on the solid ground and, like the little grass, owned the earth beneath my feet. During the snowing days, standing alone by the window, I recited silently Shelley’s famous lines that “If winter comes, can spring be far behind?” Watching the pure-white, graceful snowflakes falling in silence from the lead-gray sky, covering gently the withered meadow, I thought that in the coming year, the grass would flourish. Yet, the meadow that had given me so much comfort has forever disappeared from my life. It disappeared when a path was constructed to the middle of the lake―a process of creating another form of beauty. Before the extermination however, the grass must have struggled for the right to live on! Just like the grass in Chekov’s “Prairie”: “She said she earnestly wanted to live on, she was still young. She would be more beautiful…”成人退烧药 But in the struggle of great disparity in strength, it was as easy as turning one’s hand over to strangle a life. Closing my eyes, I could e tho half-dead, withering grass complaining with grief…that they’d never done anything wrong, yet they would be destroyed by man innocently… I don’t know whether tho kind road-builders had ever heard the sad complaint of the grass. But I believe that the silent grievance must have been a kind of swan song of life! Now, the path winds its way to the middle of the lake―leading into the privacy and clusion. On moonlit nights, the shadows of trees dance in the breeze. When I walk on the path occasionally, thinking of that green meadow and of the grass, where I placed my feelings and I was comforted, I would feel something moving and tragic filling up my heart, as if I were treading on the remains of the grass and hearing the painful groan and sigh of its soul under my feet! If a soul does exist when a life comes to an end, then, could the soul of the grass be only one that groans and moans on the earth? Now, early spring has appeared once more, with flecks of light yellow and soft green silently breeding. After experiencing the double devastation of nature and man, thousands upon thousands of lives will start a new samsara. Although the decead is out of existence, the living still has to continue struggling for life! In fact, in final analysis, life, being dynamic or unknown, is nothing but a solemn and stirring process. Yet just becau of this solemn and stirring process, “the sun is new everyday!” Therefore, I often think of the green meadow. |
常想一二 朋友买来纸笔砚台，请我题几个字挂在新居客厅墙壁上。我便在朋友面前展纸、磨墨，写了四个字：“常想一二”。 朋友说：“这是什么意思？”我说：“俗话说‘人生不如意事十常八九’，但扣除八九成的不如意，至少还有一二成是如意的、快乐的、欣慰的事情，我们如果要过快乐人生，就要常想那一二成好事，这样就会感到庆幸、懂得珍惜，不致被八九成的不如意所打倒了。”朋友听了，非常欢喜，抱着“常想一二”回家了。 几个月后，他来探视我，又来向我求字，说是：“每天在办公室里劳累受气，一回家之后看见那幅‘常想一二’就很开心，但是墙壁太大，字显得太小，你就再写几个字吧！”对于好朋友，我一向有求必应，于是为“常想一二”写下了“不思八九”，上面又写了“如意”的横批，中间随手画一幅写意的瓶花。 没想到过了几个月，我再婚的消息披露报端，引起许多离奇的传说与流言的困扰，朋友有一天打电话来，说他正坐在客厅我写的字前面，他说“想不出什么话来安慰你，念你自己写的字给你听：常想一二、不思八九，事事如意。”接到朋友的电话使我很感动，我常常觉得在别人的喜庆中锦上添花容易，在别人的苦难里雪中送炭却很困难，那种比例，大约也就是八九与一二之比。不能雪中送炭的不是真朋友，当然更甭说那些落井下石的人了。 不过，一个人到了四十岁后，在生活中大概都锻炼出宠辱不惊的本事，也不会在乎锦上添花、雪中送炭或落井下石了。那是因为我们已经历过生命的痛苦与挫折，也经验了许多情感的相逢与离散，慢慢地寻索出生命中积极的、快乐的、正向的理念，这种理念正是“常想一二”。“常想一二”的理念，乃是在重重乌云中寻觅一丝黎明的曙光，乃是在滚滚红尘中开启一些宁静的消息，乃是在濒临窒息时，有一次深长的呼吸。生命已经够苦了，如果我们把几十年的不如意事总和起来，一定会使我们举步维艰。生活与感情陷入苦境，有时是无可奈何的，但是如果连思想和心情都陷入苦境，那就是自讨苦吃，苦上加苦了。 我从小喜欢阅读大人物的传记和回忆录，慢慢归纳出一个公式：凡是大人物都是受苦受难的，他们的生命几乎就是“人生不如意事十常八九”的真实证言，但他们在面对苦难时也能保持正向的思考，能“常想一二”，最后他们超越苦难，苦难便化成对生命中最肥沃的养料。使我深受感动的不是他们的苦难，因为苦难到处都有，使我感动的是：他们面对苦难的坚持、乐观与勇气。 原来如意或不如意，并不是决定于人生的际遇，而是取决于思想的瞬间。 原来，决定生命品质的不是八九，而是一二。 | “Dwell on One or Two” A friend of mine brought over a newly purchad t of paper, brush, ink-stick and ink-slab, and asked me to write something for the wall in the sitting room of this new hou. I unfolded the paper, ground the ink-stick on the slab, and wrote out the words: “Dwell on one or two.” “What does this mean?” asked my friend. “You know the popular saying,” I replied, “ ‘Life means frustration eight or nine times out of ten’. Deducting the eighty or ninety per cent of frustration, you still have ten or twenty percent of success, happiness or gratification. If you want to enjoy life, you should focus on the one or two times you are happy, be thankful and cherish them. Then you’ll never be overwhelmed by the eight or nine times when you are unhappy. ” Happily my friend left, carrying the scroll in his arm. 恒娘A few months later, he called on me again and asked for more calligraphy, “Every day I have to slave and suffer in the office. But as soon as I get home and e the words ‘Dwell on one or two’, I brighten up and feel happy. But they do look so small on that big wall, can you write a few more words for me?” As I am always ready to oblige my good friends, I wrote an antithetical couplet for him, adding the cond part, “Forget about eight or nine” and the horizontal inscription, “As you wish”. To fill up the space in between, I did a free-hand drawing of a vast full of flowers. Then, a few months later, something quite unexpected happened when my remarriage was reported in the newspapers, giving ri to numerous strange tales and annoying rumors. My friend called me, saying that he was sitting in front of my inscription. “As I can’t think of better words to comfort you, let me read what you wrote: Dwell on one or two; Forget about eight or nine — Everything as you wish.” I was very moved by this. How easy it is to add to somebody’s joy, I often think, and how hard to lend a helping hand in times of distress — the ratio would probably come to nine to one, too. But tho who do not help you when you need it most are not true friends, much less tho who hit you when you’re down. Come to think of it, people over forty are mostly inured to the vicissitudes of life, caring little about receiving congratulations for success, getting help when in need, or being hit when down. For after experiencing so much anguish and frustration in life and going though so many ntimental meetings and partings, we have gradually found certain dynamic, happy, positive precepts in life, which may be summed up as “Dwell on one or two.” This means focusing on specks of light in the murky dark, gleaning bits of peace and quiet from the raucous, mundane world, or striving for refreshing breath on the verge of suffocation. Life is hard enough as it is; if we burden ourlves with all the frustrations built up over dozens of years, how can we go even on step further? At times, we can’t help it when we find ourlves in dire straits, materially or emotionally; but if we let that make us mirable in mind or mood, we would only be piling more hardship on ourlves and suffer twice as much through our own fault. I have been keen on reading biographies or memoirs of the great since childhood and found a kind of rule about their lives: all great people suffer. They mostly testify to the saying that life means frustration eight or nine times out of ten. Despite their sufferings, however, they can always maintain a positive way of thinking, or in other words, they can “dwell on one or two”, until they finally transcend their sufferings and turn them into great inspiration for life. What deeply moves me about great people is not their suffering, for sufferings are common and omniprent; it is their perverance, optimism and courage in the face of suffering that move me most. So success or failure in life does not hinge on mere opportunities, but upon one’s frame of mind. And it is not the eight or ninety percent probability but the ten or twenty percent possibility that determines the quality of life. |
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