《清明節(jié)的雨》（外二首）
作者/魏學(xué)士（中國）
英譯/銀杏（美國）
主播/薇薇（中國香港）
《Rain of Qingming Festival》
By Wei Xueshi（China）
Tr. Yin Xing (USA)
Recited Mary（HK China）
1. 《清明節(jié)的雨》
風(fēng), 吹亂冰涼的雨
潮濕的柳枝搖曳著
灰塵正爬滿相框
站在梨樹下的你依然微笑
臉上刻滿滄桑歲月的皺紋
鞭炮穿過陰云
帶走所有未拆封的信
麥苗的根須在生長(zhǎng)
田間留下最后一聲咳嗽的聲音
我點(diǎn)燃了草紙
淚水比灰燼更早抵達(dá)碑文
柳絮紛飛時(shí)
雙眸溢出來串串的熱淚
讓心事寄給土墳
雨水濕了衣服
新發(fā)的柳枝也無精打彩
是誰, 吹響了柳笛
像是有人輕輕
撥動(dòng)了那古老的琴
1.《Rain of Qingming Festival》
The wind blows up the cold rain
The wet willow branches are
waving, Dust is all over the
photo frame
Standing under a pear tree
Still smiling
Your face is covered with
wrinkles from the vicissitudes
of the past
The firecrackers passing
through the clouds
Taking away all those unopened letters, The roots of the wheat
seedlings are growing
Leave the field behind
The last sound of coughing
I lit the straw papers
Tears reached the inscription
sooner than ashes, When the
willow catkins are flying
Hot tears filling both of my eyes
Letting my thoughts be sent to the grave
The rain water is wetting the
clothes, The newly-grown
willow branches are listless
Who is playing the flute made of willow bark?
It is like someone is playing the old piano softly
2.《又是一年清明節(jié)》
雨聲撞碎了夢(mèng), 慈母音容猶在
父親揮起斧頭, 劈柴
回憶從雨縫間, 流露出點(diǎn)點(diǎn)滴滴
母親臨終時(shí), 仍在灶臺(tái)忙碌
父親仍拿著挑水扁擔(dān)
郊外麥苗在瘋長(zhǎng)
柳樹也露出了幾許的無奈
微風(fēng)中柳枝輕拂著墳頭
沒有忘記母親輕輕撫摸我的頭發(fā)
沒有忘記父親在我犯錯(cuò)時(shí)的威嚴(yán)
她總在昏黃的燈光下攪動(dòng)紡車
他總是在田野里驅(qū)動(dòng)犁鏵
他們無懼風(fēng)太凜冽, 無懼雷雨閃電
總為我驅(qū)暑為我遮風(fēng)擋寒
寫了一封又一封家書
卻找不到收信人的地址, 只有今日
在清明的雨水中寄托思念
灶火仍在燃燒，可我
卻沒有了當(dāng)年的那個(gè)家
雙眸凝視著相框，久久無言
2.《It's Qingming Festival again》
The rain shattered the dream,
and my mother's face and voice were still there
My father waved an ax and cut wood
Memories showed bit by bit
between the rain
Mother was still busy at the
stove before she died
Father still holding a shoulder
pole for carrying water
The wheat seedlings over the
countryside are growing madly
The willow trees also showing a little helplessness
The willow branches brushing
the grave in the breeze
I have n't forgotten my mother stroking my hair lightly
I haven't forgotten my father's
seriousness when I made
mistakes
She always turning the spinning wheel in the dusky light
He always driving a plow in the field
They weren't afraid that the
wind was too cold
They weren’t afraid of thunder, rain and lightning, They always
keeping me away from the
summer heat and shielding me from the wind and cold
I wrote letters after letters
I couldn't find the address of
the recipient, Only today, I can
repose my longing in the rain of Qingming
The fire is still burning, but I No
longer have that same home
in the past
My eyes staring at the photo
frame and I am silent for a
long time
3.《清明節(jié)的哀思》
清明如期赴約
天空落下思念的雨滴
是憔悴還是眷戀
還是開啟沉甸甸的回憶
朦朦細(xì)雨, 模糊了我的雙眼
那熟悉的小路
曾經(jīng)的往事歷歷再現(xiàn)
路旁的野草肆意瘋狂
也許它們不懂世間離合悲歡
也不知道那份恩愛情緣
我佇立在父母的墳頭失聲流淚
仿佛聽到了父母的呼喚
仿佛觸碰到昔日的溫暖
風(fēng), 把那柳枝吹動(dòng)
如夏日里母親輕搖的蒲扇
忘不了寒夜中掖緊被角的身影
忘不了辦錯(cuò)事時(shí)責(zé)怪的目光
小時(shí)候, 我騎在父親肩頭
那時(shí)我仿佛摸到了天
父親在田間送走了晚霞
母親讓廚房冒起炊煙, 父親的懷抱
是為我遮風(fēng)擋雨的港灣
如今，我只能在雨中
滿腦子是對(duì)您二老的思念
雨滴和滾燙的淚水粘在一起
濕了我的雙頰, 也許想表達(dá)
那無盡大愛和深深的情感
紙錢飛舞鞭炮聲聲
把我無法言說的眷戀寄到云端
陰陽兩界卻隔不斷愛的羈絆
3.《Mourning at Qingming Festival》
Qingming is on time to keep an appointment
Raindrops of longing falling
from the sky
Haggard or longing?
Or do they open up heavy
memories?
Drizzling rain Blurred my eyes
That familiar path
The past is repeated every time
The weeds on the side of the
road growing wildly
Maybe they don't understand
the world's separation, reunion ,sadness and joy. They don't
know about that love
I stood at the graves of my
parents
I broke down in tears
I felt like I heard the calling of
my parents
It felt like I touched the warmth of the past. The wind blew the
willow branches. Like the fan
that my mother rocked softly in summer. I cannot forget the
figure of tucking the quilt in
the cold night, I cannot forget
the look of reproach when I did
something wrong
As a child, I rode on my father's shoulders.
As if I reached the sky. Father sent away the evening
sun in the field. Mother made
the kitchen smoke rising up
My father's arms, Were my
harbor against the wind and
rain. Nowadays, I can only be in
the rain. My mind is full of
thoughts about my parents
Raindrops. Sticking to hot tears
Wetting my cheeks
Maybe they want to express
That endless love and deep
emotions
The sound of firecrackers and
flying paper money
Sending the longing that I cannot express to the clouds
The yin and yang worlds are
separated but the bonds of love cannot be separated
