《清明节的雨》（外二首）

作者/魏学士（中国）

英译/银杏（美国）

主播/薇薇（中国香港）

《Rain of Qingming Festival》

By Wei Xueshi（China）

Tr. Yin Xing (USA)

Recited  Mary（HK China）

1. 《清明节的雨》

风, 吹乱冰凉的雨

潮湿的柳枝摇曳着

灰尘正爬满相框

站在梨树下的你依然微笑

脸上刻满沧桑岁月的皱纹

鞭炮穿过阴云

带走所有未拆封的信

麦苗的根须在生长

田间留下最后一声咳嗽的声音

我点燃了草纸

泪水比灰烬更早抵达碑文

柳絮纷飞时

双眸溢出来串串的热泪

让心事寄给土坟

雨水湿了衣服

新发的柳枝也无精打彩

是谁, 吹响了柳笛

像是有人轻轻

拨动了那古老的琴

1.《Rain of Qingming Festival》

The wind blows up the cold rain

The wet willow branches are 

waving, Dust is  all over the  

photo frame

Standing under a pear tree

Still smiling

Your face is covered with 

wrinkles from the  vicissitudes 

of the past

The firecrackers passing 

through the clouds

Taking away all those unopened letters, The roots of the wheat 

seedlings are growing

Leave the field behind

The last sound of coughing

I lit the straw papers

Tears reached the inscription 

sooner than ashes, When the 

willow catkins are flying 

Hot tears filling both of my eyes

Letting my thoughts be sent to the grave

The rain water is  wetting the 

clothes, The newly-grown 

willow branches are listless

Who is  playing the flute made of willow bark?

It is like someone is playing the old piano softly

2.《又是一年清明节》

雨声撞碎了梦, 慈母音容犹在

父亲挥起斧头, 劈柴

回忆从雨缝间, 流露出点点滴滴

母亲临终时, 仍在灶台忙碌

父亲仍拿着挑水扁担

郊外麦苗在疯长

柳树也露出了几许的无奈

微风中柳枝轻拂着坟头

没有忘记母亲轻轻抚摸我的头发

没有忘记父亲在我犯错时的威严

她总在昏黄的灯光下搅动纺车

他总是在田野里驱动犁铧

他们无惧风太凛冽, 无惧雷雨闪电

总为我驱暑为我遮风挡寒

写了一封又一封家书

却找不到收信人的地址, 只有今日

在清明的雨水中寄托思念

灶火仍在燃烧，可我

却没有了当年的那个家

双眸凝视着相框，久久无言

2.《It's Qingming Festival again》

The rain shattered the dream, 

and my mother's face and voice were still there

My father waved an ax and cut wood

Memories showed bit by bit 

between the rain

Mother was still busy at the 

stove before she died

Father still holding a shoulder 

pole for carrying water 

The wheat seedlings over the 

countryside are growing madly

The willow trees also showing a little helplessness

The willow branches brushing 

the grave in the breeze

I have n't forgotten my mother stroking my hair lightly 

I haven't forgotten my father's 

seriousness when I made 

mistakes

She always turning the spinning wheel in the dusky light

He always driving a plow in the field

They weren't afraid that the 

wind was too cold

They weren’t afraid of thunder, rain and lightning, They always 

keeping  me away from the 

summer heat and shielding me from the wind and cold

I wrote  letters after letters

I couldn't find the address of 

the recipient, Only today, I can 

repose my longing in the rain of Qingming 

The fire is still burning, but I No

 longer have that same  home 

in the past

My eyes  staring at the photo 

frame and I  am  silent for a 

long time

3.《清明节的哀思》

 清明如期赴约

天空落下思念的雨滴

是憔悴还是眷恋

还是开启沉甸甸的回忆

朦朦细雨, 模糊了我的双眼

那熟悉的小路

曾经的往事历历再现

路旁的野草肆意疯狂

也许它们不懂世间离合悲欢

也不知道那份恩爱情缘

我伫立在父母的坟头失声流泪

仿佛听到了父母的呼唤

仿佛触碰到昔日的温暖

风, 把那柳枝吹动

如夏日里母亲轻摇的蒲扇

忘不了寒夜中掖紧被角的身影

忘不了办错事时责怪的目光

小时候, 我骑在父亲肩头

那时我仿佛摸到了天

父亲在田间送走了晚霞

母亲让厨房冒起炊烟, 父亲的怀抱

是为我遮风挡雨的港湾

如今，我只能在雨中

满脑子是对您二老的思念

雨滴和滚烫的泪水粘在一起

湿了我的双颊, 也许想表达

那无尽大爱和深深的情感

纸钱飞舞鞭炮声声

把我无法言说的眷恋寄到云端

阴阳两界却隔不断爱的羁绊

3.《Mourning  at Qingming Festival》

Qingming is on time to keep an appointment

Raindrops of longing  falling 

from the sky 

 Haggard or longing?

Or do they open up heavy 

memories?

Drizzling  rain Blurred my eyes

That familiar path

The past is repeated every time

The weeds on the side of the 

road growing wildly

Maybe they don't understand 

the world's separation, reunion ,sadness and joy. They don't

 know about that love

I stood at the graves of my

 parents

I broke down in tears

I felt like I heard the calling of 

my parents

It felt like I touched the warmth of the past. The wind blew the 

willow branches. Like the fan 

that my mother rocked softly in summer. I cannot forget the 

figure of tucking the quilt  in 

the cold night, I cannot forget 

the look of reproach when I did 

something wrong

As a child, I rode on my father's shoulders. 

As if I reached the sky. Father sent away the evening 

sun in the field. Mother made 

the kitchen smoke rising up

My father's arms, Were my 

harbor against the wind and 

rain. Nowadays, I can only be in 

the rain. My mind is full of 

thoughts about my parents 

Raindrops. Sticking to hot tears

Wetting  my cheeks

Maybe they want to express 

That endless love and deep 

emotions

The sound of firecrackers and  

flying  paper money

Sending the longing that I  cannot express to the clouds

The yin and yang worlds are 

separated but the bonds of love cannot be separated