在那遙遠(yuǎn)的地方(序)

In that Faraway Land（Preface）

窗外有雨，屋子里顯得比較陰暗和出奇的安靜。我一個(gè)人在屋里走來(lái)走去，把花瓶里的水重新?lián)Q了，把椅墊都扶正排好，把茶幾上的玻璃擦得一塵不染。一直沒(méi)有人按門(mén)鈴，也沒(méi)有人打電話(huà)來(lái)。在窗前和門(mén)后幾次來(lái)回，終于再也找不到任何藉口之后，我只好在沙發(fā)上坐了下來(lái)。

It was raining outside， so the room seemed rather dark and unusually quiet. I walked back and forth in the room， changed the water in the flower vase， straightened up all the cushions， and wiped the tea-table glass until it was spotless. No one rang the doorbell， and no one called me on the phone. After pacing back and forth a few times in front of the window and behind the door， I finally could find no more excuses， so I had to sit myself down on the sofa.

心跳得厲害，我把這本簿子端端正正地放到眼前，不知道在翻開(kāi)了簿子之后，將會(huì)看到些什么？將會(huì)有怎樣的一種心情？

My heart was pounding wildly as I placed the photo album squarely in front of me. I didn’t know what I would see after I opened it， nor did I know what sort of feelings would come over me.

但是我唯一可以確定的就是，在一翻開(kāi)之后，我就永遠(yuǎn)都不能再是從前的那個(gè)自己了。

But there was one thing I was sure of: once I opened the album， I would never be the one I used to be.

然后，我就翻開(kāi)了它。

Finally， I opened it.

然后，就在第一頁(yè)，就在第一張相片上，就是那一條河，就是外婆把年幼的我抱在懷中說(shuō)過(guò)了許多次的那條河流——在一層又一層灰紫色的云霞之下，在一層又一層暗黑起伏的丘陵之間，希喇穆倫河的波濤正閃著亮光發(fā)著聲響浩浩蕩蕩橫無(wú)際涯地向我奔涌過(guò)來(lái)。

Then， right on the first page， right in the first photograph， was that river， that river that grandma spoke of so many times when I was a little child in her arms——Under layers of gray purple clouds， the enormous Xilamulun River rushes out to me from gently rolling hills with shining waves and powerful sound.

然后，我就開(kāi)始痛哭，在一個(gè)陰暗而又安靜的房間里，在一個(gè)微微有些陰雨的南國(guó)秋日的下午。

At that point I burst into tears， in a gloomy， quiet room on a drizzly afternoon in Southern China.

那一條河發(fā)源在我母親的家鄉(xiāng)——昭烏達(dá)盟克什克騰旗。

That river originates in my mother’s hometown——Hexigten Banner of Chifeng City in Inner Mongolia.

河流的源頭藏在一處人跡未至的原始森林里，那里有林海千里，鳥(niǎo)雀爭(zhēng)鳴，瀑布奔騰。從那些孤高巨大的寒帶林木之間，希喇穆倫河逐漸匯聚，盤(pán)旋回繞，逐漸變寬變闊流向那一望無(wú)際的草原。

The source of the river is hidden in an untrodden primeval forest where the trees stretch on for hundreds of miles， where birds sing happily from morning till night， and where cataracts surge like galloping horses. Under those lonely enormous Frigid Zone trees， little rivulets flow together one by one， winding and weaving their way over the forest floor till they form a wide swell of swirling water gushing down into the endless grassland.

母親說(shuō)過(guò)，從木蘭圍場(chǎng)坐車(chē)到察哈爾的多倫，要經(jīng)過(guò)三百里地的森林。母親說(shuō)：

“那真是一片樹(shù)海，怎么走也走不完似的，夏天的時(shí)候坐車(chē)經(jīng)過(guò)，整個(gè)森林都是香的，香味里面可以分得出哪些是花香，哪些是草香和樹(shù)香。那時(shí)候我一直覺(jué)得連霧氣和露水也好像都清香清香地留在我的衣服上。

My mother once said that if one travels by car from the Mongolia Enclose to Duolun County in Chahar province， one has to cross 150 kilometers of timberland. “It was a veritable sea of trees，” she said， “and it seemed one would never walk out of it. When we crossed over it in the spring， the whole forest was just bursting with fragrances. You could distinguish the scent of flowers from the scent of the grasses and that of the trees. I always felt even the fog and dews which left on my coat were full of fresh fragrance.

有一次車(chē)子剛出森林，到了一片大草原上，就看到整群野馬奔跑了過(guò)去。其中有一匹毛色特別純白，像雪一樣的發(fā)白發(fā)亮，那時(shí)候我真希望自己不是坐在車(chē)子里、而是騎在那匹雪白的野馬的身上。”

Once when the jeep we were riding in had just left the forest and entered a huge stretch of grassland， a whole herd of wild horses galloped past right before us. Among them there was one horse that had incredibly pure white hair， shining as white as snow and as bright as midday. At that moment how I wished I was not sitting in a jeep， but on the back of that snow-white stallion. ”

外婆告訴過(guò)我，母親一直是個(gè)溫順體貼的孩子，而在把我們這五個(gè)子女帶大的歲月里，母親也一直是個(gè)溫柔和安靜的婦人，可是，我總是記得母親在那次說(shuō)起她的少年時(shí)光，說(shuō)起她看到那匹白色野馬時(shí)的神情。

Grandma once told us that my mother was always an obedient and considerate child， and that during the years that she brought up the five of us kids， she was always a gentle and quiet wife. But I would always remember her expression when she spoke of her youth， of the youth time when she caught sight of that wild white horse .

外婆去世已經(jīng)有廿二年了，母親也在這個(gè)春天離開(kāi)了我們，逝者如斯，不舍晝夜，只有那條河是一直在那塊土地上奔流著的。

It has already been twenty-two years since grandma passed away， and my mother also left us this past spring. Ah， how things pass away in this world， in this endless succession of days and nights! Only that river continues to flow on and on， over that same vast stretch of grassland.

朋友在信上說(shuō)：“我曾經(jīng)沿著希喇穆倫河走了一段路，我不知道換了是你，會(huì)作何感想？”

A friend wrote to me in a letter， “I once walked for a while along the Xilamulun River. If you had been in my place， I wondered， how would you have felt?

我想，我不必等走到那條河邊時(shí)才開(kāi)始思念，就在此刻，我心中就強(qiáng)烈地想念著她們，想念著我的母親，和我母親的母親，想著她們漂泊的一生，想著她們?cè)瓉?lái)并不該走上卻又不得不走上的那樣迢遙的一條長(zhǎng)路。

I didn’t have to wait， I thought， until I walked along that river to begin to think of my family. Right at this moment I was thinking of them so intensely， thinking of my mother， of my mother’s mother， thinking of their lives of wandering， of that long， long road that they should not have set out upon in the first place， but in the end had to set out upon.

是不是會(huì)嫌太遲了呢？

Would I feel that it was too late?

我是說(shuō)，如果，如果有一天我真的走到那條大河前面的時(shí)候，是不是已經(jīng)太遲了呢？

What I meant was if . . . if one day I really came to that river， would it already be too late?

我用我整個(gè)的心來(lái)祈求，希望一切都不會(huì)太遲。希望那源頭仍在，希望那千里松林仍是一片樹(shù)海。陽(yáng)光明亮，正是春末夏初，雜花生樹(shù)，充滿(mǎn)了清香。希望在樹(shù)林邊緣的大草原上，看到一群野馬奔馳而過(guò)，其中有一匹飛奔如箭矢，毛色如雪般在太陽(yáng)底下發(fā)著光亮。

I prayed with all my heart that everything would not be too late. I hoped that the source of the river would still be there. I hoped that the endless pine forest would still be a sea of trees. It was right at the end of spring and the beginning of summer， and the sun was shining brightly. There are flowers and trees everywhere， and the forest was brimming with fragrances. I hoped that on the great grasslands at the edge of the forest， I would see a herd of wild horses galloping past right before my eyes. And I hoped that among them there would be one horse galloping as fast as an arrow， its hair as white as snow， shimmering brightly in the rays of the sun.