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[旅行漫记] 双溪汇一湾清流(中英双语散文系列)

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发表于 2017-6-7 21:13 | 显示全部楼层 |阅读模式
本帖最后由 九州方圆 于 2017-6-15 06:42 编辑

                                              双溪汇一湾清流—回到儿时的家园
                        (中英双语散文系列)
                                                 作者:余震南
                        (一)双溪汇一湾清流
   立于九峰山绿道透过一片掩掩抑抑丛林的间隙俯瞰,富屯溪如一条白色玉带从山脚下流过。它静静流淌在俊俏的山谷下,离得那样近切又如此深远,仿佛街边摩天高楼上俯视夜光琉璃下的一弯街道—璀璨而难以触及。当举目平视,群山漫无边际地绵延着。翠绿向远方褪色,从大片青葱到皑皑茫茫,若非是雾茫然了天际。南平城便错落于这群山和谷地之间,参差楼宇从富顿溪对岸顺溪谷山坡起势,俨然一片山城。
   走下九峰山去接近那溪流。从剑州大桥上望去,水面宽阔起来,却依旧深远,如临深渊的凛然寒意袭面而来。立于闽江源地,建溪河道上的暗礁也依稀暴露出些许—就在同富屯溪汇合的不远处。当夜色降临,我又一次站在桥上。城市灯火如往常一样勾勒出楼宇的轮廓,辉煌了街巷,也播撒在双溪那清粼粼的水面上。波涛荡涤这夜光,夜光在波谷间闪烁,直飘向远方,黯淡出黑白世界。仿佛去开启一片往事的回忆。很久很久以前的往事,跨越了38年或更远一些:
   儿时住在梅山坡上,沿着红星巷一顺溜的矮泥瓦屋子。院落也一顺溜在屋前,还有个浅浅的斜坡。坡底长满了苔藓,上方搭起木架棚子做厨房,再延伸便到了微缩的菜院子和鸡棚。若说有什么吸引四周的眼球,一定是小斜坡上那颗魁硕的文旦树。一到初夏,文旦才长成金桔大小便有孩子们来采摘。秋天,半绿半黄的文旦长到手球般大小,隐藏在繁茂的枝叶间。父亲常在高高的竹竿头绑一把镰刀,去采摘那些藏起来的果子,我在树下极力睁大眼睛要让所有的宝贝入网。院子里堆了一大堆文旦,可到深秋依旧有些许落蒂,掉下来糜烂在泥土里。
    幼稚园也在梅山坡上。瓜藤下一扇木板栅拦门外是依坡而建的大菜园子。有四层,梯田一样落下去。最高一层上有座大庙宇,砖瓦房子,宽敞的大厅,屋子列于两侧。后院台阶下有一座水池,前院一扇门通向一条斜斜的小巷直通往水东大桥。幼稚园在梯田的最底层,同样是庙宇—一座天主教堂。莫约有两三层,青砖黑瓦,木门木窗,还有前面一条边的宽敞木晒台。幼稚园在二层,也列于宽宽的廊道两侧,一侧一个班。课间我便时常徘徊在晒台上,盼望建溪对岸玉屏山下开来一列满载的蒸汽火车,好随着轰鸣的汽笛一起呼叫。虽有些矮木屋,山坡空阔而荒芜。晒台上也能看见玉屏山铁路下的一湾溪流,依旧这般清澈。它顺势流向闽江。
    再清澈的溪流也会泛起一时浊浪,粼粼波光中潜含的凶险时常现于浊浪排空的雨季。记得有一年,水一直没过百货公司一楼,如今那里开辟了一片广场。双溪汇前的码头,台阶日常有几十米深。赶福州班的乘客们挑上担子走下去,几乎踩着肩,在台阶上排成一条长龙。那个洪水季,码头整个淹没了,连最高一层台阶上的售票处屋顶也没于水下。江边的高脚木屋也被冲得最多只剩下些桩基。人与水的搏斗成为南平当年的主题之一。每次大水过后,紧接着第二年的端午节上,龙舟和竹排竞技又会伴随满河鞭炮锣鼓声响彻双溪上空的玉屏山,九峰山和梅山。鞭炮锣鼓是人向水神龙王的宣战,一种精神激励。无论人曾经在洪灾中失败得如何惨烈,鞭炮锣鼓都宣誓着一种不屈。定是这样的不屈打造出而今的南平。
    伟岸的混凝土防洪绿化堤岸沿着建溪和富屯溪两岸绵延了数十公里。跨越双溪的大桥在当年的记忆里只有两座—水东大桥和水南大桥。如今几乎有七八座。玉屏山大桥和剑州大桥已然现代化产物,粗壮的钢条斜拉着,悬锁着,绮丽造型平添不灭的城市彩虹。剑州大桥桥下的立体交通过道开辟成了市民游乐园,从一方乐园望去富顿溪依旧那样深远。我记起儿时脚下的这块地:曾经有一座动物园,沿着江边的一座笼子里曾经关过一只硕大的华南虎。我不敢接近江边,地势过于险峻,所以也不敢靠近那笼子。现在才明白当年南平人那样安排的用意,它提示水猛如虎或虎猛如水。
    玉屏山在对岸高挑着,飞檐回廊的玉屏阁高挑在玉屏山巅。阁上眺望建溪峡谷—深深一条缎带蜿蜒向远方。眼界里一座四孔桥依旧是那儿时踏足过的水东大桥,却成了唯一熟悉的身影。巍峨的楼宇沿溪谷河道生长出来,摩天大厦也并非金鸡独立,它们三三两两地挺拔在两岸,直至掩抑在远山的苍茫雾色中。沿溪依山而建的木制吊脚楼再也看不见了,或依旧留存着三两座掩抑在楼群里。晚风荡漾起草树的馨香扑面而来,在玉屏阁上尤为强劲。风,这劲风让我回忆起旧日南平人与自然搏斗的另一大主题—人与火的较量:
    东山路梅山坡以西过去有一条曲曲折折的坎子路。下了坎子便来到人民街边,母亲工作的单位—南平服装厂便坐落在中医院旁边的小山坡上。当年视野很开阔,没有重重叠叠楼宇遮挡。坡上便可一目了然:中医院前有一方宽敞的院落,门诊楼莫约三两层的砖瓦房,再向后,整齐宽敞的水泥台阶漫长地一直延伸到坡顶。坡顶是住院部,走到一半有一扇开向右侧的小门,进门便到了母亲的制衣制帽流水线。放学常沿着这一条坡道去母亲厂里,然而这条路并没有走多长时间。一天,沿路走到人民街边。街道两侧的人行道上挤满了观望的人流,密密匝匝,水泄不通。服装厂门市部里向外流出很多水,还有四五根水龙软管直通向街口。刚想过马路进门,被一只手从后面拉住了。恰巧是母亲,她神色慌张,一只手上还拿着加工了一半的长毛绒棉帽耳朵。车间失火了。
    火是从一楼烧起的,一名棉帽车间女工用蜡烛接皮带。蜡烛倒了,点燃周围棉絮,火苗窜到棉堆上一刹那烧灼起来。母亲的缝纫车间在二楼,工人们闻风而散。才逃出车间,原先的厂房便淹没于一片火海之中。烧毁的也是一座功勋车间。它虽简陋,唐山地震那年深秋,母亲彻夜不回,赶制棉衣棉帽,送去一大片双溪人清纯的友情。我也便曾经在那车间后的棉衣棉帽堆里度过几个晚上。那仓库的棉帽堆子里满是药水味,一种为了防霉变在浆糊里添加的防腐剂散发出的。而老棉帽全都用浆糊糊上的硬纸板烤干后做衬里。旧时南平的火烧毁的不是一家两家工厂,它烧毁了一片又一片。常常依山而起,烧掉大半个山头。几乎没有一家未深受过火的灾难。短短儿时记忆里,便留下过如此近切的景。
    那般水深火热的城市,逃离成了众多市民的梦想。能实现梦想的人却太少。我成了不多幸运者中的一员。此时,站在玉屏阁顶宽阔的回廊里,我并没有感到逃离能称上一种幸运。水害受到了控制,火灾随老木屋一并消逝。半山的回廊上一对红色的对子,激发出无数大城市人羡慕的目光。“将日月比作过客;让我两当成山人。”平白的句子没有华丽藻饰,其间透出的闲适仿佛存世于远古。
    列车开出建阳,还未到达南平前就一路下坡,蜿蜒曲折地行驶了好几十公里才来到闽江谷地。冲下最后一个坡,来到一小片开阔地,便停在南平车站。1979年的别离也在这一小块地坪。似乎还能想起当年的火龙沿着九峰山麓开出了隧道,它粗粗地喘息着,在粗壮的像电线杆一般直立着的水龙头下停稳,打开烟囱后的圆帽,哗哗地补水。这是一座小城,从密密麻麻的铁路行车匝道上却看不出来,只能借那矮矮的候车楼。出了站,公交班线也少得很,只一个站台亦少见停留的班车。数了数站台牌子上的站点,都不过十站上下。每每自称山人的南平人习惯了这样的格局。每一座桥都可俯视和仰视,每一次站住脚都有不同的景观。莫非山城人也穷尽不了山城的景致,何况我一个疏别数十年的故人。只有山城的水,改变不了老模样。当从记忆里抹去那一泓短暂奔逝的洪涛,双溪汇一湾清流。这一湾汇聚在九峰山下、玉屏山脚、梅峰坡底,也汇聚在我儿时短暂的记忆中。

      
                                      
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 楼主| 发表于 2017-6-7 21:19 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 九州方圆 于 2017-6-15 06:54 编辑

                     (二)溪源峡谷历险记
    雨,下了一夜的倾盆大雨。南方的雨烈,如同南方的日烈一般。雨声掩住了其它一切声响,轰隆隆地盖下来,浇了个透。本以为溪源峡谷之旅从此泡了汤,洪流一定会淹没那地方。清晨隆隆雨声却淅淅沥沥起来。打开WiFi上网一看,延平却将迎来小雨间止的天气。无法得知那个峡谷是否已被淹没,或前一段的晴日晒干了山上的土,在这一片绿荫覆盖的全国第一绿化城市,水被含蓄着。直到打来电话,说可以成行,才带着疑惑犹犹豫豫地上了路。

    汽车驶过玉屏山大桥,又沿着曲曲弯弯的山路蜿蜒攀爬了十几公里。再下行,似乎沉入一片谷地。谷地束狭起来。公路建在抬高的山麓边。沿坡道望去,一湾小河静静地流淌着。水流并不涓细,亦没有满溢出边界。直到溪源峡谷入口,群山敞开怀抱,露出一片空阔。空地直面那一线窄窄的山谷,淹在俊俏的峰峦间,亦没入一片拔地而起之葱绿。

    一片晨昏中走进雾雨缭绕之山峦。才入峡谷便传来轰隆隆水声,如同昨夜的雨,一片狂暴之哗然。起初,溪谷并不深邃。溪水哗啦啦奔流在碎石之间,激起一片惨白。碎石的棱角被流水切平滑了,也切出亮泽,却依旧抵住水流发出那一片轰响。水势之大定无法立足其间,平日游客们喜好的溪谷踏浪成了惘然,却没有惘然若失的心情。这别一番景致牵引着众人向溪谷深处渐行渐远。

    随着路越走越窄,溪谷也深深切入一侧,直落到脚下数十米的深涧里。轰然之声更磅礴起来,像站在落潭的飞瀑前。丰密的树时而遮掩着溪流。从枝头叶间看去,碧绿下一汪白花花的流水豕突狼奔。靠山的一侧尤为阴翳,已望不见山峰却掩盖于峰峦之下。树也不见枝头,只有沿着陡坡马起来的树桩,一根根一条条树立在阴翳中,晦暗到无法留在影像里。不时有络绎的小桥穿行在溪流间,亭台也疏落点缀着。我不顾苍茫水声的催促,探奇般停留在一方石碑前。清朝道光年间留下的碑文,曰:“卧龙桥”。 虽不知龙在何方,亦或便指桥下飞奔的水流。也因而得知溪源峡谷的历史名头,再回忆起入口处的石头牌坊:“清溪雾源”“溪谷洞天清凉开自宋;源头福地优雅著而今。”峡谷的历史又几乎传到千年以前。这束狭的小道便一路点缀遗迹,“古道清风”,风起见庙,名曰:“溪源庵”。峰峦上的水沿着陡坡切入深涧,在另一侧也发起轰鸣,直直地跌落,好似涓细的飞瀑。我们在自然和人文里前行,忘却了疲惫和起先的担忧,却于路面偶然发现一根跌落的圆树干。莫约昨夜的风雨太狂,生生断落下来,露出鹅黄中的年轮和几丝木腥味。

    再向深处便来到溪源附近。谷地开阔平缓起来,露出世外桃源景象:溪水缓流,溪边田地里一片桃园,一片鱼池塘,一片魔芋地间隔排列。山依旧在绵延,绵延中让出空阔平缓的谷地,洼出一大块,一小块。农人的小木屋建在沿山麓的一带,屋前堆满柴火,不时马齐一侧的墙,堵住一两扇窗口。木屋多为两层,瓦直接堆砌在梁上。二层有空阔的阳台和开放式大厅。沿阳台伸出锯齿般的木条,廊檐斗拱下几杆依旧发出深绿的竹竿便可依托锯齿固定,用来晒衣。厢房在大厅两侧,一层同二层同样布局。农舍三三两两错落着,不时露出一面残垣断壁或坍塌的屋子,那灰黄泥土里嵌入的大砖门一并墙上青苔显出一种古风。

    我走出农舍屋外举头望去,一座绮丽的山映入眼帘。一片葱翠的山麓和山坡上,山头裹着白雾。白雾浓密却半透明,显出山头的轮廓。是一个严整的山尖,沿着三角形堆上去。这山让我想起江南端午的粽子。煮熟了,解开束缚的棕绳,巧手掰开一角,露出白花花的糯米,周身粽叶依然裹着一半。不知山名,心中便暗自称其为“白头粽山”。雨雾缭绕山尖,久久不愿退去,也没有变得更加浓密遮掩住山尖的轮廓。从峡谷走近溪源,当四下里开阔起来才见到一座山的整体轮廓。山变得更完整起来。而峡谷里的山不过一些陡峭的壁,间或高高露出一湾V形的山伢子。入山者失山,出山者得山,亦应了“不知庐山真面目只缘身在此山中。”

    午饭后,当我从小憩中醒来。雨雾正在退,却依旧缭绕着。“白头粽山”上的霭变成了轻纱,山的轮廓愈加清晰。雨,昨夜的倾盆大雨洗净了桃园,连挂在枝叶间粉嫩的花蕾也被洗净了花粉。农人说:今年山谷的雨特别大,桃树林都绝收了。只见得桃花依旧艳丽地挂着,却没有结出果实。好在这只有一小片桃林,紧紧挨着的魔芋地芋头叶子被洗的嫩绿鲜亮。南方水热集中,芋头长得特别大,粉嫩甜美。芋叶象一把把撑开的独特小伞。有人称其魔芋,而更多的叫法为冰糖芋。丰美的蔬菜如同丰美的山水一般不落一荒。硕大的空心菜依旧鲜嫩,一把把抓在手里感到比苏南的轻盈许多。

    小憩后这样的闲暇是短暂的。得赶回路,又惊于古道上那一棵新落的原木,车开得很快。不一会儿便冲出山口……

                            (三)好客的南平人

    此次踏上南平之行,原本只想同姐姐一道去寻觅童年的足迹。并不敢期望遇见故人,也不期望会有老朋友相认。时过境迁,数十年的别离人们定早忘却了我俩38年前于这座中等城市的存在。在茫茫人海中遇见不多的熟人本来就算奢侈。可谁也没有想到这样的奢侈在好客的南平人手中接力成功了。

    我随姐姐踏入了一所南平的中学—剑津中学,是她当年就读的老学校。校园并不大,30多亩地。一行小榕树边300米跑道围起了个小操场。教学楼坐落于操场右侧对着正门的径前方向,是一座严整的楼房。许多向阳的教室还在走廊上挂起蓝条白杠的帆布遮帘。再往前走有一尊钱学森铜像,激励人们去探求科学报国之路。就在这座铜像前我们路遇一名老者—退休员工梁老师。他已是七十多岁的老人,一米六几个的个子,长得干瘦,头发稀疏到荒芜,却依旧精神矍铄。

    老人极力询问姐姐当年所在的班级和任课老师姓名,随后带领我们参观了校园。这是一所历史悠久的学校,创办可追溯到1902年。更往前曾经做过郑成功解放台湾之练兵场,甚至有一座宋碑径直从深深的泥土里挖了出来。操场一端还留有民国时期建立的龙涎亭和一口边沿伸出九个石龙头的金鱼池。梁老师神采飞扬地一边走一边讲解,一直出了校门还意犹未尽。他要我们坐在后校门外的石凳上等候,自己回家去取一本百年校庆的纪念册送给作留念。正在等候间,从教工楼里走出一名身材修长,戴着眼镜的女退休教师,莫约也七十多岁年纪。她也上前打探,几番确认后姐姐惊喜了,这女教师居然是当年的班主任,手机里留有当年那个班级同学的微信群。如此,一次漫无目的的回乡寻访成了一场盛大的同学欢聚会。同学联系同学,又从中学联谊到小学。在这问路也会不时遭到冷遇的年代,谁敢料想真诚热烈之情。好客的山城南平人,实践着它,传承着它,发扬着它。我们在一个因久别而疏远的地方感受到了胜似家园之温暖。

    若说来南平故地重游,不如说我们被好客的南平人安排了。他们策划每一个细节,为了使我们宾至如归。每一次团聚都欢歌笑语,每一次出行都左右相伴。从玉屏阁一同陪伴到溪源峡谷,还策划着前去福州的旅程。


                            (四)福州故地重游

    1977年第一次去福州,火车沿山腰开了近半天,在不见天日的绵延山洞间进进出出。那年五一,福州的夜辉煌灿烂。五一广场上的火树银花盛开到半夜,雷鸣般的烟花盛宴震动整座福州城。那座省会城市里,我第一次尝到闻所未闻的咖啡以及西餐三明治。而南平那样的小山城,当年连冰淇淋都很稀罕。还记得鼓山脚下的动物园里表演过海狮顶球,形形式式的动物水里、陆地、树梢形态各异。再就是马尾滩头的那次露天晚宴。广场大屏幕上放映着抗美援朝纪录片,在米格15比斯的扫射下一架架F104或F86如同没头的苍蝇一般栽下去,拖着一尾尾黑烟……

    如今从南平北站上车,不过40分钟高铁车程便到了福建省会,省城景致展现在眼前。那一条省城中心的五四路,未见得比其它大城市繁华,也不见摩天大厦。十几二十层的楼宇却排列得很紧凑,如同就餐的那家小店“老福州风味”。餐饮亦如名称一样老味道,海鲜成了家常,虾油拌饭称得上奢侈。即便常能这般奢侈,许多人也难以忍受那一股海腥味。

    听说福州三七坊很有名头,如同扬州东关街、无锡古运河以及苏州观前街。匆匆用餐后就赶忙前去。却为一条古街,从入口牌坊上的古体汉字“南后街”即能看出。入街有一幢二层雕木古楼,张着灯笼。步行街内最盛市的商品为茉莉花茶,不仅茶店众多,一处隐隐的学会个更证明其地位。偶尔向左一看,瞧见严复学堂也在街边,对面立着两尊铜像—一位老者戴着眼镜伏案书写,一名年轻人站在书架前读书冥思。严复为18世纪末,19世纪初中国著名翻译家和翻译理论家,“信、达、雅”的理念一直运用到如今。街内还有众多艺术殿堂和手艺行以及特色餐饮店。

    偶然间发现一所“海峡民间艺术馆”,我便走了进去。里面成列着众多寿山石雕刻艺术品和烧木艺术品,汇聚自然天成和人的精工制作。人物栩栩如生,憨态可掬;器物精美古朴,原生态样式。

    在榕城寻找榕树不会算件难事,要找到大榕树也并不容易。当来到短短几百米长的三七坊出口,当面迎来一棵大榕树,长长的穗子向马尾一样落下来,却又不及地面。枝繁叶茂的大榕树,撑起一小片天空,流下一片阴翳。榕树和知了的叫声成了经典歌曲中的主题,并未听见蝉鸣便在想象中立刻联系起来。

    一个偶然的机会下,我们居然进了福建省政府直属机关—福建省地震局,同地震专家讨论地震预报、预防和抗震救灾等事宜。专家带领我们参观了悬浮式抗震结构的大楼,他说福建省地震局作为一种人道主义机构不仅肩负抗震救灾的历史使命,还逐步成为海峡两岸平战一贯的沟通渠道。福建省地震局将要建成国家级的重装救援队,为多震的海峡对岸提供及时高效的人道主义服务。之后专家带领我们参观了地震局附近的福州温泉公园,高高的椰树林尽显南国风。

    福州一日安排得如此紧凑,当我们回到五四路上的舒馨时代酒店已经是夜晚。这条福州的中心路段灯火通明,欣欣向荣。第二天一早便匆匆踏上回镇江的旅程。



特别鸣谢原东方红小学(东山小学)老学员和剑津中学老学员的关照。
特别鸣谢刘建国大哥的精心安排及周密计划。

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 楼主| 发表于 2017-6-7 22:09 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 九州方圆 于 2017-6-10 18:23 编辑

                           The Origin of MinJiang Builds up a clear Estuary  
                                          Return to my childhood homeland.
                                                 (Abilingual prose series)
                              (1)The Origin of MinJiang Builds up a Clear Estuary
       As I stood on the greenway of Mount JiuFeng FuTun brook could be overlooked through the interval of woods like a white jade belt winding by its foot. It flows tranquilly under the perilous valley then I felt it so near while so far in distance actually as if we overlook the neon lighted street on top of a skyscraper. The street looks splendid but too far to lay your hand on. When I leveled my sight I could see far reaching mountain chains reaching to all directions and to a distance too distant to measure. The fresh green around faded into a foggy white as the distance increases and it might be fog itself that blinded the horizon. The city of NanPing just locates in between the mountains and valleys high and low. Buildings in a variety of height mount themselves on the slopes opposite over the river. It’s too obvious to be a mountain city.   
       I went down mount JiuFeng to approach the brook. Viewing on bridge JianZhou the water surface seems to be broadened while still stays far below. A shivering cold attacked me as if standing on the edge of a giant cliff. At this place for the origin of MinJiang River the half submerged reefs in brook JianXi can be vaguely seen. They stand not too far from the intersection with FuTun brook. When the night had fallen I stood on a bridge once more. The city lights outlined buildings, illuminated the streets and spread on the clear surface of the intersection. Waves washed the lights. The lights flicked and flew along until disappeared into a world of black and white as if to open a memory of the past—a memory of long ago, more than 38 years.                     
       I had lived on slope MeiShan in my childhood in a line of one stored mud and tiled house along the lane of HongXing. The courtyard also laid in the front along the house with a shallow slope slant from the middle. Mosses grew everywhere on the bottom above which there used to be a wooden shed. Further ahead there stood a mini vegetable garden and chicken coops. If I should say there could be something that caught the eyes it must be the giant grapefruit used to be standing on top of the shallow slope. Every time when early summer came and the grapefruit grew as big as cumquat children from around would gather there for a try. In the autumn the grapefruits would grow as big as handball in green and yellow hiding themselves in its prosperous leaves and branches. Father would fasten a sickle on one end of a bamboo then reap the fruits with it. In the mean time I would stand by side trying my best to discover all the treasures. Soon a pile of grapefruits were piled in the courtyard but when deep autumn came there still to be some hidden so well and dropped themselves to decay in the earth.   
        My kindergarten had been on slope MeiShan too. There used to be a wooden fence on the back of our courtyard outside which stood a big vegetable garden on terrace. There had been four stages for the vegetable terrace. A brick and tile temple had been structured on the top with a spacious parlor and two lines of apartments by two sides. A pool had been constructed in its backyard under the steps and the door in the frontyard had lead to a slanting land making its connection to bridge ShuiDong. The kindergarten located on the foot of the terraced field—also a temple building but it’s a Catholic church. The church stood in two or three stores in blue brick and black tiles with wooden door and window frame. A wooden structured balcony had been fixed to the front. Our classroom was on the second floor and there’s another opposite with a spacious parlor in between. I liked to stand on the balcony at break waiting for a full load of train by steam engine to pass under mount YuPin so that I can shout along with the siren. Though there used to be low wooden houses the slope seemed to be hollow and spacious. From the balcony I could see the clear stream of JianXi brook tranquilly flew under the railway line at the foot of mount YuPing. It’s as clear as today and flew to MinJiang River as usual.
         However clear the brook is it must have flood season when the muddy water prevail. The potential risk lay in the usual clear wave by itself. There’s a flood season in my memory when the water flooded the first floor of the old department store where stands a square today. The wharfat the water intersection had been low under long steps—dozens of meters under. Passengers of the boat bound for FuZhou lined to descend the steps with their cargo loaded on the shoulder. They descended almost on the shoulder of the one in front. While in that season of flood the wharf submerged even the roof of ticket office on top of the stairs was under water. Never mention those highly erected houses by river side. There should be nothing but the timber foundation. The struggle against flood formed one of the themes for people in NanPing. Every the next year after the catastrophe when the dragon boat festival came dragon boat race and bamboo raft demonstration would be performed as usual on MinJiang River. The sound of firecracker and drum beats instantly filled mount YuPing, JiuFeng andMeiShan. The firecracker and drum demonstrated a determination to fight against the god of water—the dragon as well as to brave over the calamity. It must bethe same kind of determination that constructed the present city of NanPing.

        A magnificent concrete dyke in greenery stretches a dozen miles or so along JianXi brook and brook FuTun. In my memory of the past there had been only two bridges across them—ShuiDong bridge and ShuiNan bridge. Now I can have seven or eight in my view. Bridge YuPingShan and bridge JianZhou are obviously modern structures with thick chains of steel and iron in suspension and support. Their graceful portraits add to the eternal splendor of city NanPing. An amusement park was explored under bridge JianZhou along the underpass. Viewing from the park brook FuTun still lay far below. Then I remembered this place in my childhood years: there had been a zoo and once an encaged giant south China tiger had been on exhibition by the river. I dared not to approach the riverside for its too perilous so it is with the cage. Now I realized the intention of the arrangement—they indicate water is a thing as fierce as the tiger or vice versa.
        Mount YuPing stands high and sharp on the other side of JianXi brook and attic YuPing with its encircling corridor as long as overhanging eaves stands on top of the mount. Overlooking from attic YuPing the brocade of JianXi valley stretches far beyond horizon deep under. A bridge with five piers in my view serves the only thing I can recognize—Bridge ShuiDong which I had stepped on in my childhood. Lofty buildings crowded along the two sides of Brook JianXi and the skyscrapers are by no means solitude. They erected in two and three along the valley and last until the vague foggy horizon. The stilted wooden mansion could never be seen or there might be two or three remained and submerged into the crowd of high rises. The evening wind embraced me in the fragrance of grass and flowers, especially strong on attic YuPin. Wind, the strong wind brought my memory to another theme of people in past NanPing—the struggle against fire.






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发表于 2017-6-8 13:58 来自手机 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 xiuhua585 于 2017-6-8 15:38 编辑

感情细腻,文笔优美,今人惊叹的超级天才,描写的山城如此清晰,几十年的场景映入眼帘,仿佛就在昨天。真心感谢您让我们找回童年的记忆,同时感受山城今天的美丽。好样的,点赞




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发表于 2017-6-8 14:00 来自手机 | 显示全部楼层
感情细腻,文笔优美,今人惊叹的超级天才,描写的山城如此清晰,几十年的场景映入眼帘,仿佛就在昨天。真心感谢您让我们找回童年的记忆,同时感受山城今天的美丽。好样的,点赞   
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 楼主| 发表于 2017-6-8 16:31 | 显示全部楼层
xiuhua585 发表于 2017-6-8 14:00
感情细腻,文笔优美,今人惊叹的超级天才,描写的山城如此清晰,几十年的场景映入眼帘,仿佛就在昨天。真心 ...

过奖了,感谢大哥、大姐们的盛情款待。写作花了两天,翻译也要两天。在您的鼓励下我不敢放弃。
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发表于 2017-6-8 17:03 | 显示全部楼层
好记性,好文笔,超棒哦,给人震憾有如身临其境  
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 楼主| 发表于 2017-6-8 18:48 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 九州方圆 于 2017-6-8 21:05 编辑

        To the west of slope MeiShan, DongShan Road thereused to be a zigzagging stair way leading to RenMing Road. NanPing garment factory in which my mother had worked just located half way on a slope by the side of the old TCM hospital. In the year I can remember no high rises blocked the view so I could see far and wide by then on the slope: there had been a spacious front yard in front of the TCM outpatient building. The building was of brick and tiles with one or two stories above ground floor. Further back there constructed a long and wide concrete staircase leading to the hill top on which located inpatient department. Half way on the slope to the right fixed a wooden door leading directly to mother’s assembly line in manufacture of cotton caps and cotton overcoat. I used to walk along this way after school to visit mother’s assembly but soon I had to abandon. One day when I reached RenMingRoad I discovered the street was crowded with people in observation. Four or five water pipes stretched out into the street from the sales department of the garment factory with water running everywhere. As soon as I was about to cross the street a hand dragged me back way. It happened to be the hand of mother. She was in terror and griped a half processed woolen flap in the other hand. Her workshop caught fire.            
        The fire was ignited from the workshop under hers. When a female worker lit a candle to melt together a leather belt the candle fell onto a pile of cotton by side. Instantly the cotton caught fire and burn fiercely. The tailoring workshop mother had worked just sat on the top and workers took their escape as soon as they sensed it. No sooner had they reached a safe place than their assembly line was swallowed in the fire. The workshop destroyed in the calamity had been an exploit one though it’s simple. The autumn after TangShan earthquake mother had to work over duty until deep into the night tailoring cotton caps and overcoats for those inflicted. Along with the supply people of NanPing sent their sincere friendship there. Under the task I had to spend a few nights in the workshop sleeping inside their store room. Then I got accustomed to the medical smell of the room which prevailed there. It’s from the paste. In prevention of rotting workers add antiseptic substance into the paste which smells the way. The lining of the old style cotton cap use cartoon pasted together to make it standing firm. Fire in old NanPing did not destroy just one or two plants or households. They destroyed region after region. They took the wind and ascended alone slopes. No family had never encountered such a fire. So in the transient memory for my childhood it can vividly present this.
          In the extremely misery between fire and flood escaping turned out to be an ideal way for many citizen. But those who could realize it could only be the minority. I happened to be one of those fortunate people. While this moment when I stand myself on top of attic YuPing in its broad corridor I can’t feel anything fortunate in the escapement. People had flood under control and the fire had disappeared along with those wooden structured houses. Half way onto mount YuPing there stand a Chinese couplet in red which stimulated much envy by the cosmopolitan dwellers. It goes: “Take moon and sun as passerby; Let you and I be dwellers on mountain high.”  The simple sentence without magnificent wording presents a fitness that may derive from the ancient.  
         As the train set off from JianYang it travelled all the way down slope in a zigzagging cause for dozens of mile before it reached the valley of River MinJiang. When it dashed down the last slope the train reached a small plain land and stopped in front of NanPing railway station. In the year 1979 when I departed city NanPing, it’s from the same plain land. I can vaguely recall the scene of my departure then: the locomotive dashed out of the tunnel under mount JiuFeng then stopped under a post like strong water tap in its heavy breath. The engine opened its cap and got water supply from the tap. NanPing is a small city but we can’t tell it by the wide spreading branch rail lines there. I can only tell it from the small station by the line. The city has fewer bus lines too and there’s just one bus stop outside the railway station. I could see few bus stopped there in the waiting. When I counted the stops on the board it generally calculated less than ten. People of NanPing who call themselves mountain dwellers got accustomed to the situation. Every bridge there can be up looked and overlooked. Every step if you stop a different scene must present before. The mountain dwellers might not exhaust the mountain scenes there, never mention a man like me who had returned after 38 year in departure. Only the water there keeps similar look. As I erased the flooding in my memory the estuary keeps its clear. The clear streams join under mount YuPin, JiuFeng and slope MeiShan. It also joins in my transient childhood memory.
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 楼主| 发表于 2017-6-8 22:29 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 九州方圆 于 2017-6-9 14:08 编辑

                                                   (2)The Adventure in XiYuan Canyon
           Its storm, the downpour lasted a whole night. The storms in south China are strong as its sunlight in summer. The sound of downpour muffled all the other sounds and the earth was soaked through. I had predicted our journey to XiYuan canyon would be abandoned. The place could be flooded in the shower. But early in the morning the storm changed itself into a drizzle and the weather forecast by WiFi indicated it would be a drizzling day in YanPing region. I couldn’t tell whether the canyon had been flooded. Maybe the sunlight before had tried the earth and the No. one forest city in China can withhold water under tree roots. Not until I received the telephone that indicated we can make it did I get up for the trip in suspicion.           
           The car drove across YuPingShan Bridge then climbed a dozen miles up along the zigzagging road. Once again it took a down slope way as if sunk into a basin. The valley narrowed while we advanced on a relatively high zone by the mountain. As I looked side way down the slope I detected a stream of brook in its tranquil flow. The water’s not too thin while still contain within the banks. The valley opened when we reached the entrance of the canyon and the plain directly faces the entrance which submerges itself under the peaks and in the greenery.

        We walked into the canyon in the dim light of the foggy morning. The thunder of water flow broke into our ears as soon as we went in. It sounded as loud as the rainfall last night—a fierce downpour too. Firstly the valley cuts shallow into the ground. Streaming water splashed ahead between those rocks in its path and broke into a large crumpled white surface. The rocks were polished round and shining but still stood in block creating the thunder. It’s such a rapid that one can’t stand in so the expected splash play had to be suspended while it did not suspend our interests. The different scene had different attraction, for which our group kept advancing into the deep valley.  
          As we went deeper and deeper into the canyon the trench cut deeper and deeper under us until dozensof meters low. Along with it the thunder turned louder and louder as if in the approaching of a waterfall. Forest in density sometimes shaded the stream. Through their branch and leaves I could see the fierce flow in white rapids. On the other side we were shaded by the cliff and no peak could be seen. We couldn’t see a whole tree either only those stems stand one by one clustered on the slope and too dark to left their image in my camera. At time we would pass elegant bridges over the stream and perceive one or two pavilions in different style. I stopped in front of one stone tablet in spite of the thunder from rapids. It was carved in Qing Dynasty in 19 century and says “SleepingDragon Bridge” in complex old style Chinese characters. I can’t tell where the dragon is but it may refer to the rapid stream under. Anyhow I got to know the long history XiYuan canyon from it. When I recalled the memorial archway in the entrance the history was prolonged to almost one thousand years ago when it indicates “The origin of clear stream and fog” “The cool canyon be explored since Song Dynasty; Arcadia in it prominent today in lucky destiny.” in the same style of Chinese characters. From then on we could see at intervals here and there historical remains. One says “Ancient path in crystal breeze”. When the breeze blew we saw a nunnery name “XiYuan” meaning brook origin in Chinese.The water fell down along some sharp slants by side then joint the stream at the bottom. They fell in a straight line in thin stream creating sound of impact. We marched forward among the nature and all those culture in ignorant of formal worry and weariness. Then we discovered a log fell in the middle of our path. Maybe it fell from the storm last night and was cut fresh that we could detect its annual ring in its yellow fracture spreading the fresh smell of wood.
          As we went deeper we approached the origin of the rapid stream where the valley opened again to showa plain land of idyllic beauty: the rapids turned into a slow tranquil flow. Peach garden, fish pond and taro fields lay by its sides at intervals. The mountain chain still lasts and in its stretch the mountains give out spacious plain low lands in different size. The wood lodges of the peasants were constructed by the foot of the mountain. Its front usually piled with firewood and sometimes piled so high that the woods screened a whole wall and concealed one or two of the windows. The lodge usually has two floors and the tiles directly piled themselves on the roof. Spacious balcony was structured on the second floor inconnection to a big open parlor there. Saw like wooden bars reach out the balcony under its brackets and green bamboo posts leveled on them to serve as drying rack. Wing rooms stand by the parlor in uniform to the ground floor. Lodges of the style stand in two or three and sometimes show an old collapsed brick structure with its broken wall at intervals. The yellow earth, big brick gate and the green moss on the frame combined to show it antiqueness.
        As I went out of the peasant’s lodge agraceful mountain broke into my view. Above the green slope the peak was covered in white gauze of fog. The fog was not too thick so it’s transparent enough to show the outline of the peak. It’s a regular peak and mounted up in triangular shape. The shape recalled me ZongZi in the south. When it was cooked and unfastened in the middle, a delicate hand uncovered a corner from reed leaves to show its tender white rice but still half packaged in the green. I did not know the exact name of that mountain so called it secretly in my heart “White headed ZongZi hill”. The fog still encircled there procrastinated to take their leave. It neither grew thicker to conceal the outline totally. Not until we got out of the canyon and approached its origin could we see a whole mount in the open. The mount could complete itself in our view by then. While in the canyon we could see cliffs only or a V shaped cut high above us the most. When you went into the mountain you lost it, you move out and have it. Just like the poeticline indicate: “Knowing not the nature of mount Lu, for you stand in it and surrounded by it to lose its shape true.”
        When I woke up from my nap after lunch the fog was retreating while still in the circling. The gauze that had covered the “White headed ZongZi hill” turned out to be a thin veil and the outline became more obvious. Rain storm, the rain storm last night washed clean the peach garden even the pollen on the tender pink flowers were washed clean. The peasant told us that the rain in the valley had been especially heavy this year and without pollen the peach tree can’t fruit so they had no harvest now. Fortunately they only had a small peach yard there while the taro field next to it was especially prosper and fresh. In the south we had more heat and water, for which the tarogrow especially big, tender and sweet. Their leaves looked like special mini umbrellas. Some one call them magic taro while more call them sweet taro. The prosperous vegetables there were as rich as the landscape. Giant water spinach there still tastes tender and feels much lighter in the hand.  
         Such break after the nap was short. We hadto hurry on our way. In view of the danger from the fallen log the car drove fast and soon we dashed out of the canyon……   


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 楼主| 发表于 2017-6-9 14:32 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 九州方圆 于 2017-6-9 16:44 编辑

                                                     (3)The Hospitality People of NanPing
         My intention to visit NanPing had been the one to trace childhood life along with my sister. We had never expected that we could encounter any people we acquainted in our childhood. As time goes and the gap measured 38 years no one should have in mind our existence there decades ago in the medium sized city. When you walk among the crowds of people on street it’s really a coincidence if you can bump into man you know. Who could imagine before hand that we could realize such magic in the relay of those hospitable men and women of NanPing.   
    I followed my sister into a high school in NanPing—JianJin High School in which my sister had been studied. The school does not have a big campus,only a little bit more than 30mu in square. It has a little play ground circled by 300 meters track and separated by a line of small Banyan. The school building locates to the right of the play ground facing the staircase that lead to the main gate. That’s a six storied concrete building build in solemnity. Some corridors facing the sun were shade by canvas in blue and white. Further ahead,there’s a copper statue of Mr.QianXueSeng to encourage student to study science with which they can build the country and reward the society. Just under thes tatue we encountered an old retired teacher—Mr. Liang. He’s around 160cm in height, thin and almost bare headed yet spirited in his talking.

         The old man tried his best to inquire my sister on her class, date of graduation and her teacher incharge of the class. Then he led us around the campus to have a look. This is a school which possesses long history and the origin can be traced back to 1902—more than one hundred year ago. Further ahead it had been military drill ground of ZhengChengGong who had trained his soldiers here for the liberation of TaiWan. Evena tablet from Song Dynasty had been dug out under the hill on which the school stands. On one corner of the play ground pavilion LongXian were constructed in the era of Republic of China along with a fish pond around which 9 stone dragon head were fixed. Teacher Liang got excited in his interpretation and couldn’t stop it until we reached the back gate of the school. He let us sit and wait on a pair of stone chair out of the campus then got back to fetch a volume of brochure in celebration of its centenary for us. In our waiting a female retired teacher in her 70’s came out to greet us. She has slim figure and wore a pair of eye glasses. After repeated confirmation my sister turned surprised that the old woman should be her past teacher who’s in charge of the class. More over the teacher should keep a discussion group of her old students in her mobile phone. Then a blind visit turned out to be a magnificent gathering of the old classmates. Through the efforts of her middle school classmate my sister could even got in touch with her primary school friends. In this era when you could even be shun inquiring the way who can expect such sincere and enthusiastic welcome? While the hospitality people of NanPing keeps the tradition. They inherited it and promoted it. We felt more than at home in a place from which we had been separated decades ago.
           If I say we went toNanPing to revisit the old home I’d rather take it that the hospitality people of NanPing made the arrangement for us. They planned every detail and made usat home. Every reunion of the old classmates was dominated in singing and hearty talk and every outing we had company. They accompany us from atticYuPing to XiYuan canyon even made for us a plan to revisit FuZhou.           

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