作品原文

吴冠中 《哭》

那年，我坐夜车去朝拜圣地——到茂陵瞻仰霍去病墓前的雕刻。
夜车到了终点站，霍去病墓还老远。在那满天星斗的西北原野上，我时而顺着大车道，时而踏着羊肠小径往前赶路，及至霍去病墓地，天色才开始曙明。附近没有行人，我迫不及待地扑向墓前那几座庞然巨物的伟大雕刻作品。我十分激动，它们永远是活着的，并一直是我精神上的支柱。当我在异国遭到歧视的时候，当世界上其他国家的杰出艺术品令我敬仰的时候，当我气馁的时候，痛苦的时候……这几座气势磅礴的永恒的石头雕刻便总会呈现在我的眼前。
我久久徘徊于霍墓雕刻间，远看，浑然一体；近看，耐人寻味，在粗犷的斧凿中行走着蜿蜒的线。斯是顽石，却生意盎然，全世界的艺术家到此不能不肃然起敬！"我们的祖先比你强得多！"我也许是继承了阿Q精神胜利的一面吧，但有了这样矗立在世界艺术史上的先祖爷爷，确实得天独厚。这总是值得欣慰的！
1989年我重返巴黎，感慨万千。返回后，我怀着一种极其复杂的心情又一次去了西安，再一次瞻仰霍墓雕刻。在霍去病墓前，在秦俑坑前，在碑林博物馆的汉唐石雕前，我只想嚎啕痛哭。老伴跟随我，还有那么多观众，我不敢哭。哭什么？哭它太伟大了，哭老鹰的后代不会变成麻雀吧？

作品译文

On the Verge of Tears
Wu Guanzhong

Years ago, I went by night train to Mao Ling, a sacred place in Shaanxi Province, to pay homage to the sculptures standing before Huo Qubing's1 tomb.
As it was a long way from the terminal station to Huo's tomb, I had to hurry on with my journey on foot under the starry sky of Northwest China, sometimes along a broad road, sometimes on a narrow footpath. The day was just dawning when I arrived at Huo's tomb. Not a pedestrian in sight. I lost no time in presenting myself before the majestic carved works of great magnitude before the tomb, I was beside myself with agitation. The immortal art treasures will be my permanent spiritual prop. Whenever I am discriminated against in a foreign country, whenever I stand in awe before a foreign outstanding work of art, whenever I am disheartened, whenever I suffer agony…, these imperishable stone carvings of amazing grandeur will inevitably appear in my mind's eye.
I loitered for quite a long while among the sculptures, which were an integrated mass when viewed from afar and very intriguing when scrutinized close by. Traceable among the rough marks of hatchet and chisel were delicate lines zigzagging. Insensate as they were, the carved stones were brimming with life and vigor. Artists from all over the world cannot help feeling awed when they visit this place. "Our forefathers did much better than you!" I declared, maybe affected by Ah Q's2 philosophy of "spiritual victory". We are indeed very lucky to have our forefathers standing tall and upright in the world history of art. This is certainly a matter for rejoicing.
In 1989, while revisiting Paris, I felt all sorts of emotion surging up within me, Back in China, when I paid another visited to Xi'an and the sculptures before Huo Qubing's tomb. I was seized with mixed feelings, I just felt like crying with abandon as I stand once more before Huo's tomb, before the Chin Dynasty terra cotta warriors and horses and before the Han Tang upright stone tablets bearing ancient inscriptions. But I refrained from tears because I was then accompanied by my wife and surrounded by numerous spectators. Why did I feel like having a good cry? Because my motherland is so great and because of my fears about the descendants of the eagle turning out to be sparrows.