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桂子落画亭,梅影弄碧洲。胜迹追武陵,美酒流心沟。

 
 
 

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(原创)纪念妈妈  

2010-03-04 15:02:20|  分类: 酒花飘香 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

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今天是妈妈离开我们八周年的祭日,兄妹再次团聚祭典妈妈。在这个特殊的日子,谨把在英国时用英语写下的“周年祭日纪念妈妈”一文译出来,以牢记母亲恩情,并让我们的后代也记住。

 

今天是妈妈去世一周年纪念日,我禁不住又想起了母亲为我们所做的许多事情。

  

记得我11岁的时候, 那个寒冷的冬季,妈妈在室外工作,离我的学校不远。所以放学后我经常去她的工作地点。她用黄泥土掺杂稻草搭造谷仓。她的手冻得僵硬并已裂开。风刮得很紧。我躲在已筑了一半高的谷仓下,妈妈则站在脚手架上与其他工人一起把夹着稻草的一束束黄泥块堆放上去。有时下雨了,所有的工人都没有休息。他们必须继续劳作否则黄泥会被雨水冲走,前功尽弃。他们必须干到谷仓结顶为止。她淋在大雨中,全身湿透了, 双手一次次地把黄泥稻草投掷到墙上,使它粘住。她就是这样拚命为可怜的八毛钱,干上一天。我想她的风湿性心脏病的起因肯定与这个艰苦的工作有关并最终夺走了她。

 

我永远都不会忘记深深地刻录在脑海里的另一幕。当时,我还很小,每年收获季节后,农民向政府上交公粮。这时候就要组织群众把一萝萝的谷子抬到称重处然后再运送到谷仓里去。河埠头有很多装满稻谷的船只排着长长的队。母亲加入了抬谷队伍。她抬走了一萝筐又一萝筐。从河岸到谷仓大约有50米。她不停地来回穿梭。弱小的肩膀, 承受着通常超过50公斤的粮食。我不忍心看着妈妈这样工作。终于有一次我说服妈妈让我试一试。和妈妈搭挡的是一个年轻小伙,心地善良。他让大部分的重量落在他那端了,所以我得以抬起萝筐,走到称重的地方。但是我很难走过跳板,因为那时谷仓的谷子已被堆得越来越高。母亲向我跑过来接过了杠棍,离我而去。我看着她的背影艰难地跨过了跳板,我的眼泪夺眶而出。这样的劳作通常要持续到次日凌晨两点钟。当妈妈回家时,她的衣服早被汗水浸湿,肩膀又红又肿。妈妈是坚强的,虽然她生得矮小。第二天她照旧重复着这样的劳动。她就是在拚命赚取每萝筐一分钱! 有时我想她虚弱的身体怎能承受如此沉重的负荷!

   

为了养大三个孩子,供养我们读书,她知道靠父亲那么一点微薄的工资是远远不够的。她尽其所能去做零工, 在严寒的冬天为工厂洗刷塑料,并在一个肮脏的塑料工厂工作等等。

  

当所有艰苦日子过去后,本来应该是妈妈可以享乐过舒心的日子了,可她却于1989年患病了。她一直遭受风湿性心脏病的痛苦并于2002年的这一天永远地离开了我们。  

  

当我还是个孩童的时候, 妈妈就希望我将来去上大学,去读研,最后出国学习。现在她的愿望实现了。我常常想,这是我的母亲在保佑着我。她是个佛教徒,时常为我们兄妹三人并我们的孩子们祈祷。

  

妈妈,安息吧!虽然我不能来你的墓前参加你的周年祭典仪式,但我还是写下这些怀念你,永远的!

 

附英语原文:

Friday, 21 February 2003

    It is my mother’s one year death memorial day today. I couldn’t help thinking of many of the things that mother did for us.

 

    I remember when I was 11 years old, mother was working outdoors that cold winter. It was not far from my school. So after school I often went to her working place. She was building barns using yellow mud mixed with straw. Her hands were stiff with cold and split open. The wind was blowing hard. I was hiding in the half-built barn while mother was standing on the scaffold with other workers going on building by piling up the yellow mud straw. Sometimes when it was raining, all the workers didn’t take a rest. They had to continue their working or the mud would be washed away by the rain. They must work till the cover was built for the barn. She was caught in the rain, wet all over, with her hands throwing the mud straw on the top of the wall to make it stuck. She was risking her life for the poor money, 0.80 yuan every day. I think her rheumatic heart disease which finally killed her, must have something to do with the tough job.

 

I will never forget another thing that has impressed upon my mind deeply. That happened after the harvest time every summer when I was very young. Farmers were asked to hand in the rice grain to the government. Then some people must be organized to lift the large bamboo baskets of grain to the weighing place and then got the grain into the barn. There were a lot of boats waiting in the long queue on the river. Mother participated in the lifting team. She lifted one basket after another. From the bank to the barn there were about 50 metres. She went back and forth without stop. Her small weak shoulder was loaded one after another, the heavy basket of grain, usually over 50 kilograms. I couldn’t bear to see mother working in this way. Once I persuaded mother to let me have a try. The young man, mother’s partner, was kind. He let most of the weight fall on his end, so I could lift the basket and walked to the weighing place. But it was difficult for me to walk onto the gangplank leading to the barn where the grain was piled up taller and taller. Mother ran to me and took over the shoulder pole from me. I saw her back figure moving on the gangplank with difficulty. My eyes burst into tears. Such a job would last till about 2 o’clock early morning. When mother went back home, her clothes were all wet with sweat and her shoulder was red and swollen. Mother was firm though she was small and short. The next day she went to do the same job again. She just risked her life to earn one fen for each heavy basket! Sometimes I think how her weak body could hold so heavy a load.

 

In order to raise three children and support our study, she knew it’s far more than enough on father’s low salary. She did all she could to do odd jobs, washing plastics for a factory in cold winter, working in a dirty plastic factory etc.

 

    When all the hard days went by, it ought to be good time for mother to enjoy a happy and relaxing life, but she got ill in 1989. She suffered from the rheumatic heart disease and finally left us this day last year.

 

    Mother once wished when I was a little boy that I would go to college, be a postgraduate student and finally go to study abroad. Now her wish has become true. I often think it’s my mother who’s blessing me. She was a Buddhist, praying for us three children and our children always.

 

Mother, rest in peace! Though I can’t come to your tomb to attend the memorial ceremony, I write this to remember you forever!

My Mother http://doabledo.blog.163.com/blog/static/1052324200611835639569/

写给天堂里的妈妈http://doabledo.blog.163.com/blog/static/10523242006119111657325/

母亲六年祭http://doabledo.blog.163.com/blog/static/1052324200812751429214/

母亲七十三周岁生日祭 http://doabledo.blog.163.com/blog/static/10523242007102864040598/

 

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