作品原文

李汉荣 《泡菜坛子》

母亲从乡下来，住了十天。临走时，她老人家想为我们添置一件东西，留个纪念。

母亲说：“你们什么都有，又好像什么都没有。电视机是你们的，里面走来走去都是些陌生的人，有时候，杀人犯、贼、贪官、小偷也在里面出出进进；收录机是你们的，可尽是人家在唱歌；书架上的书是你们的，可那都是别人写的字；电冰箱是你们的，一年四季都装一箱不知从哪里落下的霜。方便是方便，可就是没有一样是你们自己的。”

走的那天，母亲起了个早，从街上抱回一个泡菜坛子。她说：“在坛子里腌一些菜吧，调调自家的口味。”

我们的家里，从此有了泡菜，有了自己的味道。朋友上门，我们时常以泡菜佐酒，微醉中，大家就会说：“乡下的味道，不错；不错，乡下的味道!”

于是我们大家都有了自己的味道。再看那泡菜坛子，静静地守在资阵里，在喧嚣的日子，在钢筋棍凝土的单元里，守着一坛平静的心情，酝酿着古老而纯朴的乡下味道。

英文译文

A Pickle Pot
Li Hanrong

Mother came from our home village. She stayed with us for ten days. When she was about to leave, she wanted to buy us something as a present.

"You've got everything," she said, "but you seem to have got nothing. The TV set is yours, but the people who walk back and forth in it are all strangers, even murderers, corrupt officials and thieves come in and out of it from time to time. The radio cassette player is yours, but it's all others who sing in it. The books on the shelf are yours, but they are all written by others. The fridge is yours, but all the year round it's filled with frost that comes from God knows where. Though they make your life easy and comfortable, none of them BELONGS to you in the rest sense of the word. "

On the day she was to leave for home, she got up early in the morning and brought back a pickle pot from the market.

"Make some pickles in it," she said, "and have something that suits your own palate."

Since then pickles of our own taste had been added to our diet. When we had guests, we often had pickles to go with me. Slightly intoxicated, everyone would comment, "A country flavor, not bad. Not bad, a country flavor."

So we had something to our own taste. When we looked at the pot, it was standing quietly at the corner. Amid the hustle and bustle of our everyday life and in the apartment of reinforced concrete, the pot stood there by itself, brewing an old and simple flavor.