作品原文

舒婷 《源源本本》

床垫晒过了，被单和窗帘等织物浆洗过了，冬菇和黄花菜因吸饱了阳光，黄灿灿的都密封贮存起来。一切都准备好，就等梅雨季节来临。

可是，每天每天，太阳若无其事准时上班，阳光已慷慨得近似奢侈。道路依然干燥。人们开始频频眺望天空。在乡下，农民们忧郁地在田埂上走来走去，抽水机也搬出来了。报纸开始排出抗旱消息。

望雨的心情犹如守候一位爱唠叨的老朋友。来得密了真觉得烦，该来不来的时候，无论手上忙着什么，心总是慌慌地倾听着门外。

于是忆起小时候背着书包在水洼边流连而屡屡迟到的事。尤其夏日骤雨初歇，无论马路上有多少灰尘和落叶，积水依然澄清，映出明净的天空，冉冉的云和摇动的树枝。童话里说有个孩子，失足掉进水洼，竟漫游了一个奇异的世界。至今我还信，只是这扇门需用幻想的眼睛来叩开。

覆着绿苔的清泉，在怪石间迂回跳跃的小溪，卵石铺底的河流，都能使人喜悦。人在经过水的沐浴之后，重新变得柔韧、挺拔、新鲜。我曾经问我的老师蔡其矫：“何以有水源的地方都会唤起一种感动？”

“因为，”他偏着头，仿佛听着心中的流水之声，“生命起源于水。”

他接着问：“除了水，你最喜欢什么？”

“植物。”我不假思索地回答。

家中长辈们常说，我的手刚能离开母亲的衣角独立行走时，立即攥住一枝“草籽花”。我时常无限惊异于植物自己的语言和表情。经过训练的手可以创造闻名的插花艺术，但大自然花的部落却有自己的组合方式，而且更加和谐、优美，具有竞争的蓬勃生机。

四岁的儿子对我说：“妈妈，葡萄还绿的时候摘它，它很痛，要是红了，它很高兴让我们采。”

我惊讶地问：“你怎么知道的呀？”

“因为我使劲拽，绿葡萄紧紧抓住枝条；熟了的时候，我们要忘了采，它就难过地一颗一颗落到地上。”

我弯腰摸摸孩子的脸，像母树以枝条拂过它的腋芽。

我和儿子有共同的经验。我的校园每年两次剪枝，我经过那些狼藉一地的花枝时，仿佛处在大屠杀之中。那四周无声的尖叫使我逃也似地飞跑，直跑到浑身发抖为止。

是广州的植物园，使我好像接近了生命秘密的边缘。

那是极普通的深秋初冬一个日子，云层很薄，阳光也不来装饰。水很静，完完全全。可能还很浅，但深绿色的浮游生物使水湾深邃幽远。水杉的华丽树冠直垂到水面，看去像庞大的动物在饮水。庄严的水，安静的树，风蹑足远去。我脚下的草地似乎渗出水来，凉凉的水意从我的脚跟导向全身。那一刻我迷迷惘惘地听到无声的语言呼唤我，我全身都在主动回答。那树木始终严肃地凝视着，要提醒我一个雪亮的然而却隔着层层云雾的秘密。

也许，我曾经是它们的同类？

我终究不能判断那些水杉和我交换的眼色该怎样翻译。但我发觉我盼雨的心情是一棵植物的爱恋和希望。

可是，人类和水的关系不也是自然一个无可违抗的法则吗？

作品译文

Origin of Origins

Mattresses have been aired; bedsheets and curtains have been washed; mushrooms and day lilies golden with their fill of sunshine, have been sealed and stored. Everything is ready for the onset of the rainy season.

But day after day, the sun goes to work on time, as if nothing will happen. The sunlight is so generous, it appears extravagant. Roads remain dry. People begin looking up into the sky again and again. In the countryside, farmers pace anxiously to and fro in their fields. Water are carried out. Drought-resistance information fills the newspaper.

Expecting rain is like waiting for a garrulous old friend: you get annoyed if he comes too often, but if he does not turn up as expected, you become restless and listen for his footstep.

And then I remember the time when I was a kid, schoolbag on back, loitering by a pool of water and always late for school. Especially after a summer shower, no matter if the road was covered with dust and rotting leaves, the pools of water always reflected clearly the azure sky, the tufts of clouds and the moving branches. I remember there was a fairy tale which told of a boy who lost his foot and fell into a pool and roamed through a strange and marvelous world. To this day, I firmly believe in this story, the only problem being that it needs imagination to open this door.

A moss-covered spring, a brook leaping and winding through strange-shaped stones, a river flowing over a bed of rocks, they are all a delight to the beholder. Through the baptism of water, man would be softened and freshened up and become more sprightly. I once asked my teacher Cai Qiqiao: "Why is it that people are always moved at the sight of the source of water?"

"Because life originates in water," he said, with his head turned aside, as if listening to the sound of water pulsing through his heart.

"What do you like best besides water?" he asked me.

"Plants," I answered without thinking.

Older folks in my family say I turned to grasp a flowering fig the first time I found my feet without gripping at mother's skirt. I am often surprised at how plants express themselves. Artful hands can creates flower arrangements, but Mother Nature's flower shows remain for me the most gracious and harmonious.

My four-year-old son said to me: "Mom, grapes feel hurt when they are plucked green but when they turn red they are happy to be plucked."

"How do you know?" I asked in surprise.

"I know because when I pull them the green grapes grasp the branches firmly, but when they are ripe, they part so easily. And if we forget to pluck them, they will be hurt and fall to the ground one by one."
I bent to caress his face, like a mother tree stroking her blossoming buds.

I have the same experience as my son's. on campus, branches are pruned twice a year. When I pass by those flowers and twigs now scattered on the ground, I feel as if I were involved in a slaughter. Their silent screams frighten me; I run and run, trembling all over.

It was in the Guangzhou Botanical Garden that I got close to the secret of life.

It was an ordinary day between late autumn and early winter. The clouds were thin, and the sun missing. The water looked serene. It might be shallow too, but with a layer of dark green algae. The gorgeous canopy of a willow drooped over the surface of the water, as if a giant animal stood to drink there. Solemn water; quiet tree; wind fading away in the distance on tiptoes. Water seemed to be oozing out of the lawn under my feet. A feeling of coolness spread throughout my body. At that moment I became faintly aware that my name was being called in an inaudible voice, to which my whole body spontaneously responded. The willow was standing there, gazing at me, waiting to share its elusive secret.

Perhaps, I was once one of their kind?

I failed to figure out how to interpret the eye contact between the willow and myself. But I'm aware that my yearning for rain was that of a tree's love and hope. Now, isn't the relationship between mankind and water one of the inexorable principles of Nature?