It was an old book like a memorial book, but it was long and narrow like a prayer book, and the rough pages in it were yellowed.When he was still in middle school in a small town, he asked a bookmaker in the city to make this book, and he took it with him from now on, traveling all over the world to many places.There are poems in the notebook sometimes, and diaries at other times, all of which are written because of some external stimulation or inner impulse.In his diaries he himself likes to appear as a third person; perhaps in order to describe truthfully without hurting his "I," perhaps—so I think—he feels compelled to use his imagination , to fill in some of the gaps in experience.Most of what I remember are little stories without deep meaning, or even little stories; a walk on a moonlit night, a snare drum in my parents' garden, is often all the content.And in the poems, there are many rough and even wrong rhymes.However, because I love him, I still like to read these poems and diaries as often as he allows.
Now, he carried it again in his rucksack to the trenches at the front; it accompanied him in the battle of the night, and became a participant in it; Shelters and bunkers.
Our company was stationed on the first line of defence; and now we were lying in our little mud hut again; in spite of the rain, it was still quite dry inside.
He got out his gun-cloth and was going to wipe the rust off the gun, while I sat on my knapsack and pored over his complete work, the very odd-looking diary that was the entire collection of our field library.Although I have read it many times, I can find some new things in it that I have overlooked in the past every time; this time is the same, my eyes are attracted by a camphor tree leaf caught in it.Next to the leaves is written a poem:
"The leaves are all brown," I said.
He shook his head. "Read the next page first."
I turned over and read:
It looked like a college student, or a young doctor, walking on the path across the prairie.The rifle which he carried by the belt on his shoulder seemed to weigh more and more heavily on him; and as he walked, he took it from his shoulder and took it in his hand from time to time, or from one shoulder to the other. shoulder.He took off his hat; the afternoon sun burned his hair.Around him, there are all kinds of small animals that thrive on the grassland in June, all of which are full of vitality, some run to his feet, some crawl in the grass, flashing light, or in front of his eyes. Swirling in groups, following him closely.The grassland is full of wild flowers, and the air is filled with all kinds of fragrant breaths.
At this time, the traveler stopped and looked at the endless grassland extending in all directions; the grassland was covered with shining red spots, and looked stagnant and monotonous.Just not far in front of him, there is a green forest, and on the edge of the forest, a wisp of white cooking smoke rises into the blue sky.This is everything.
Beside him, on the edge of the path, was a small mound covered with grass vines and bushes of wild roses--a wild grave that is so many in this field.He climbed up to the mound and looked at the boundless field from above again; but he could see nothing except a solitary earthen house on the edge of the woods—from the roof of which the cooking smoke he saw just now was rising.He pulled up a clump of weeds from the hard mud, and gazed at the starry little flowers on it; then, unslung from his shoulder, he lay down in the warm grass, his head resting on one hand, his eyes dreaming Gazing into the distance, until his thoughts, like puffs of smoke, slowly drifted away in the hot, slightly trembling air, drifting away.
Now, the sound of his own footsteps that accompanied him here has also become silent. All he can hear are the chirping of locusts in the distance in the grassland, the buzzing of bees surrounding the flower guide, and The cock of the prairie lark descended from the heights; and the irrepressible summer weariness overcame him.It seemed to him that a swarm of blue butterflies was fluttering up and down before his eyes, and at the same time streaks of rosy light were shining on him in the sky; and the fragrance of heather, like a light cloud, covered his eyes.
The summer wind blew across the grassland, waking up a little snake basking in the dust not far from him.It stretched its coiled body and slowly slid across the hard mud; the weeds scraped against its scaly body, making rustling sounds.The sleeping man turned his head, half awake, looking at the small eyes of the snake that slipped past the ground.He wanted to raise his hand, but couldn't; the little creature was staring at him intently.He lay like this, between waking and dreaming.At last, as if through a veil, he saw approaching him the vague figure of a young girl, almost a child, but very strong, with fair hair braided in two thick braids.She brushed aside the grass and sat down beside him.Then the little snake's eyes left him and disappeared; he could see nothing more, and then dreamed.In the dream, he became the Hans in the fairy tale that he used to dress up when he was a child again. He was lying in front of the snake cave in order to save the enchanted princess.The snake crawled out of the hole and sang:
He kissed the snake, and then, a miracle happened.The beautiful princess held him in her arms, but--strangely--she had two golden braids flowing down her hair, and she wore the kind of waistcoat that only country girls wear.
The girl clasped her knees with both hands, and looked at the distance of the grassland motionlessly.There was silence all around; only the breathing of sleepers could be heard, an occasional bird call or two from the air or from the marshes, and a soft rustling of the endless green grass as it moved in the breeze. .And so it went for a while.Later, she leaned over him; her long braids fell in his face.He opened his eyes and saw a young face moving above his head, but still as if in a dream, and he said:
"Princess, your eyes are so blue!"
"Very, very blue!" said the girl. "My mother's eyes are like that!"
"Your mother? Do you really have a mother?"
"You are so stupid!" The girl jumped up from the ground. "How could I not have a mother? It's just that she married the village chief a few weeks ago, so I live with my grandfather."
Only then did he fully wake up.
"I'm lost," he said, "in my own country. You must help me find my way, you—what's your name?"
"Rezina!" she said.
"Rezina! . . . My name is Gabriel!"
The girl opened her eyes wide.
"No, not that angel!"
"Don't laugh!" said the girl, "I know him better than you!"
"Much clearer. So you must be the little granddaughter of a schoolteacher?"
"My dad is a teacher," she said. "He passed away last year."
There was a moment's silence between them; then Gabriel rose and told her that he must be back to the town across the creek before morning.She pointed to the woods ahead and said:
"My grandfather and I live there, and you can have dinner with us first; then I'll show you the way."
When Gabriel was satisfied with the suggestion, she left the path and stepped onto the meadow towards the woods.The young man's eyes couldn't help but follow her two feet. They stepped across the grass so lightly and steadily, and every step they took made the crickets hidden in the wild grass in front jump up.In this way, they walked in the sunlight that sprinkled the weeds like a golden silk net; the breeze blew across the grassland, as warm as breathing, and made the fragrance of wild flowers more and more full around them.At this time, we could already hear the crowing of pheasants in the woods, and the timid flapping of wild pigeons on the top of the tall camphor trees.Gabriel sang as he thought about where he was going:
"War?" Regina stopped and turned to Gabriel who was singing.
Gabriel nodded.
"Please don't tell Grandpa that," she said, "he won't believe it."
"What about you?" Gabriel asked. "Don't you believe it too?"
"Me? What does war have to do with us girls?"
The young man said nothing more, and the two continued to walk forward without saying a word.The outlines of beech and oak fronds emerged distinctly from the blur of the woods; and in a little while they were walking in the shade of the hedge outside until they came to the gate of the hedge.This is the end of the grassland; in the afternoon sun, there is a small earthen house.On the low thatched roof, there was a kitten basking in the sun. When it saw them coming, it jumped from the roof to the ground, then wiped its body against the half-open door, squawking.They entered a small front room, the walls of which were hung with empty beehives and vegetable-growing implements.Regina opened a door in the corner, and Gabriel looked in over her shoulder. It was a small room; but there was nothing but an old-fashioned pendulum clock, and playing on the brass balls of the stove. There is nothing in the room except the sunlight.
"Let's go into the yard," said the girl.
Gabriel leaned the gun against the corner and walked with her into the vegetable garden outside the window.As soon as they were out of the door they came under the leafy top of a tall cherry tree; the branches of which reached up to the roof.A straight path ran through the garden between narrow vegetable beds, and then led to a small lawn, in the middle of which was separated by a short, boxy hedge of beech boughs. open.The gate was very low, and even though it was closed, Gabriel could still look over it and see what was going on inside.As he got closer, he saw a wooden beehive hanging on the opposite leaf wall in the semi-darkness of the tree, and two rows of straw-woven honeycombs were neatly stacked on the beehive.On a low stool next to him sat an old man dressed as a local farmer; the sun shone on his completely white hair.A rope face-guard, an empty basket, and other bee-keeping utensils lay on the ground beside him; in his hand he held a stalk of grass, which he seemed to be examining.Looking intently, Gabriel discovered that the grass stems were covered with bees, and some of them were crawling from the leaves to the old man's palm.
"Is that your grandfather?" he asked the girl.
"He's my great-grandfather, after all," she replied, "too old to imagine."
She opens the door.
"Is that you, Regina?" the old man asked.
"It's me, Grandpa."
"The queen bee hummed again for no reason yesterday, so I have to watch her again this morning." He said, turning his head at the same time, and saw the person coming. "Just come in, young gentleman, you just come in, the bee has stopped collecting honey today."
Gabriel went into the fence.Regina picked up the empty baskets and other items that were no longer needed on the floor and carried them back to the room.The old man gently brushed the bees off his hand and said:
"Bees are as sensible as humans, you just need to be patient with them."
Then, placing the stalk on the grass in front of the hive, he held out his hand to Gabriel.
He asked Gabriel to sit on the stool next to him, and immediately started talking to him about his own beekeeping: He loved beekeeping since he was a child, and he built the short fence in front of him more than seventy years ago; Later, he relied on beekeeping, relying on the gift of God brought to him by the bees, to maintain his family's livelihood.Then the old man spoke of his children and his grandson and his grandson's children; but at the same time he never forgot to mention his bees.The words of the old man are like a gurgling stream; with his eloquent narration, the peaceful life of one generation is slowly revealed after another.Gabriel rested his head in his palm, listening and watching the bees flying over the leaf wall in twos and threes.From the room on the other side of the garden, there was the sound of opening and closing the door from time to time; occasionally, a small flower sparrow slipped through the leaves and peeped at him with curious eyes.After a while like this, the girl came in again from the outside.Leaning on the door with her hand, she quietly listened to her grandfather's story.Among the foliage her bright girlish face looked like a lovely picture in a green frame.
Gradually the commotion in the air subsided, and there was a shadow in the green short hedge.Gabriel looked at the girl; the old man continued to speak slowly.Naturally, he sometimes misremembered the time, and told the son's affairs as the grandson's affairs, and the grandson's affairs as the great-grandson's affairs.At this moment the girl intervened and said, "You're mistaken, grandpa, that's my uncle; you're talking about my mother now." But the old man replied sternly, "I remember everything about them; It’s not so bad.”
Finally, as the weather began to turn cold, the old man stood up. "Let's go inside," said he, "it's getting dark, and the bees have gone to their nests."
So they walked out of the short hedge together; the old man carefully bolted the little gate.
When they walked into the room, there was only a little bit of the afterglow of the setting sun on the beams of the roof, and they were reluctant to leave; on the window sill, the violets had already exuded a more intense fragrance that came later.A table, covered with a rough tablecloth, stood between two windows; on it were neatly cut slices of brown bread, yellow butter, and glasses of fresh milk.The old man sat down in an armchair by the window and asked Gabriel to sit on a stool opposite him, while Regina went in and out of the room.
They had a simple dinner together; Gabriel looked out the small window into the garden from time to time.The old man put on his glasses, picked out a worm from the milk with the tip of a knife, and put it gently on the table.
"It will still fly," he said. "We must help those who are in trouble."
Several times, Gabriel heard something in the cherry tree in front of the window.He looked out now, just in time to see two nimble little feet disappearing among the branches, and then two or three birds flew out of the garden, croaking.In the distance, probably from the woods, came the monotonous sound of an ax cutting a tree trunk.
"It's probably a long way to other villages, right?" he said.
"Always nearly an hour's journey." The old man replied. "By God's will! This little girl has lived with me since her mother remarried." He pointed with his finger to a shelf above the door; Well done book. "It was all left to her by her father," said the old man, "but she was not born to read, and she can't be quiet at home for a while. Only on Saturday night, when little Fritz the beggar comes, can she be peaceful." Quietly squatting behind the fire with him, listening to him tell stories about witches, once he started talking, he didn't hesitate.
At that moment the girl came in, and poured out on the table a bunch of red cherries from her apron.
"The thrush is coming out of the woods again!" she said.
"You should have locked up these thieves," said Gabriel, catching a glimpse of an empty birdcage hanging from the window frame.But the girl stopped him with a secret wink; the old man held a knife and gestured at her threateningly.
"She's a little rascal. She lets them go every time," he said.
Gabriel looked at the girl.She smiled, and her face turned red at the same time.When she saw that Gabriel was still staring at her, she grabbed her golden braid, bit it between her teeth, and ran out the door.Gabriel heard her closing the door outside.
"Just like her father, happy all the time." The old man said, leaning back in the chair at the same time.
The sky gradually darkened, and the trees in front of the window cast a thick black shadow on the room.Gabriel told the old man that he had to go back to the city early tomorrow morning and asked the old man to show him the way.
"The moon will come out soon," said the old man, "and that's the best time to travel at night."
They chatted for a while.It was getting darker and darker; the old man gradually became silent, just staring at the garden through the dim glass window.Facing the quiet and serene old man, Gabriel himself was speechless—in the deep twilight that was filling the cabin more and more, he could only see the old man vaguely.In this way, the room became even more silent; only the old clock on the wall was still talking non-stop.
After a long time, Regina still did not come back; and the moon had already risen behind the garden.Gabriel stood up, ready to say goodbye to the girl.He went into the vegetable garden, but there was no sign of the girl anywhere.Suddenly, in the middle of the bean bed, there was a rustling sound; there, he found her.On the ground beside her lay a small basket, half full of pods.
"It's getting late, Razio," he said, walking toward her through the vines. "I must start at once; I want to be in town before the sun comes up."
Regina continued picking without looking up.
"It's not too far, really," she said, stooping to pick pods between the bean sprouts that grew near the ground.
"So you go there often, too?" Gabriel asked.
"Me? No, I don't go that far. I've only been out once in all; my father has a sister up north, and we rode all day. But I don't like it; I don't understand what people say, and they always Always like to ask: Where are you from?"
"But you're lonely here by yourself, guarding an old man all day long!"
She nodded.
"The back of the village is more lively! My mother and the village chief often tell my grandfather, but he just doesn't want to leave here; he said that the houses in the village are next to each other, so it's very stuffy."
Gabriel sat beside her and helped her pick the pods.Regina shook the basket from time to time, and it seemed that there was no more room in the basket.The night grew thicker; they groped to pluck the almost invisible pods; again and again the pods slid out of the overstuffed baskets.But they still didn't stop, and continued to pick slowly and fascinated.Suddenly, Gabriel heard a loud noise, so low that it seemed to come out of the ground; and the ground under his feet trembled almost imperceptibly.Gabriel turned his ear to the ground and listened.Suddenly, another click, another click.What happened in the city to start the cannonade in the middle of the night?Regina didn't seem to hear anything; she raised her head a little and said:
"The clock in the village is striking ten."
Gabriel jumped to his feet; an unbearable sense of loss seized him, and he couldn't stay in the carefree tranquility before him.
"Rezina, I'm leaving," he said, raising his voice. "I wish I could come again!"
The girl quickly raised her head to look at him; in the darkness, he saw her big bright eyes.
Just then they heard the old man's footsteps coming down the path in the vegetable garden.Gabriel went up to him, thanked him, and told him that he was leaving.However, when the old man Nan Bei told him the way to go again, Regina stood up and said calmly:
"No, Grandpa, I'll take him to the river."
The old man nodded, and held out his hand to Gabriel; but then held back his gun—several times, while in the room, he had glanced at it attentively—asked him to wait, and then smiled slyly. Say:
"We shall see you again, young sir; you must come again--to-morrow, or the day after tomorrow."
With that, he strolled under the door, and Gabriel followed Regina across the yard.They walked up to the grass review, and the moonlight shone directly on their faces.A path ran through the yard; there was no sound in the yard except for a night moth, buzzing in the slumbering kingdom of the bees.Thousands of paces ahead of them was the dark, mysterious forest.When they came to the edge of the wet shadow that spread down to the grass, Gabriel saw a short ladder made of pine trunks leading from the undergrowth to a woodland.They parted the branches, climbed the ladder, and entered the woods.They walked obliquely close to the edge of the woods along a barely visible path in Zenglong; so that, through the sparse saplings and bushes, they could see beyond the woods the moonlit meadows.Regina leads the way.The shadow of the moon passes through the tree and sprinkles on the black leaves, like drops of bright and crystal water; from time to time, a ray of light hits the girl's head, making it appear from the darkness at once, but soon, it appears in the darkness again disappeared.Gabriel followed her in silence, hearing the rustle of her feet on last year's leaves and the sound of beetles burrowing into the bark.There was not a breath of wind; only the slight, almost inaudible crackling of leaves against leaves.After walking for a while, something suddenly sprang out from the darkness of the woods and ran beside them.Gabriel saw its flickering eyes and asked:
"what is that?"
A young deer jumped into the road. "That's our friend!" cried the girl, and ran off down the path like an arrow; the little deer ran after her.
Gabriel stopped, leaning against a tree trunk; he heard rustling in the bushes, he heard the girl clapping her hands; and then it all disappeared into the distance.The surroundings fell silent, only the mysterious music of that summer night became more and more clear in his ears.He held his breath and listened, listening to the thousands of subtle sounds, appearing and disappearing, one after another, flying to an unimaginable distance for a while, and being close at hand for a while.He could not imagine whether it was the clear springs rushing through the woods to the meadows, or the night itself, that flowed so beautifully.At this moment, in his mind, the scene of saying goodbye to his mother on the morning of leaving home seemed to be a distant memory.
The girl finally came back.She put her hand on Gabriel's gun and said:
"The little deer is very obedient, and we often run races together!"
The clink of the gun belt woke him up.
"Come on, Regina, show me the way!" he said.
Regina was silent for a moment, then complied with her guest's request, turning off the path they had just taken, and crossing into the woods.There is no road for anyone to walk in the woods; the ground is full of tree roots, catching the traveler's feet from time to time; the shorter branches hit him in the face for a while, and caught his gun for a while.It was dark in the woods, and the girl was used to running in it, moving swiftly through the branches, and Gabriel couldn't even see her in a moment.Only when he was suddenly pricked by an invisible thorn and couldn't help but let out a cry, did he hear her gloating laughter in front of him.Finally, she stopped and held out her hand to Gabriel who had fallen behind.They went on like this.From a distance, there was a sound of puffing and puffing.Gabriel listened.
"It's a boat," she said, "and the ferry is down there."
Sure enough, the sound of the oars soon became clearer; and then the thick trees thinned away, and they were free to look out and see the soft outline of the earth lying at their feet in the moonlight.The grass was covered with silver-gray dewdrops; the path leading to the ferry was like a black line.The bridge formed by the reflection of the moonlight trembled slightly on the water; the boat that was rowing away from the opposite bank broke into the light like a black shadow.Gabriel looked across the shore, but all he could see was a haze of smoke.
"It's not far," the girl said, pulling her hand away from Gabriel's. "The river is beyond the grass. You can't go wrong again."
They were still standing in the shadow of the trees; yet, under the bright moonlight that permeated the woods, he could see her whole figure and every movement of her clearly.Her golden braids had been coiled like garlands around her head for the convenience of the journey.At this time, in Gabriel's eyes, she became so charming and pure, so noble and dignified; when she pointed to the moonlit place outside and told him how to go, he couldn't help looking at her intently.
"Good-bye, girl!" he said, giving her his hand.
But she took a step back and said hesitantly:
"Please tell me again... why do you have to fight?"
"Why? Don't you know, Regina?"
She shook her head.
"Grandpa never talked about that," she said, looking up at him like a child.
Looking at her big eyes silently, Gabriel was at a loss.Suddenly, the leaves rustled in the bushes beside him, and a nightingale sang inside.She stood in front of him, motionless, and her breathing was almost imperceptible; only in her eyes, in some unfathomable place, was her soul still agitated.Gabriel wondered why she was staring at him like that.
"Speak!" she said at last.
Gabriel reached for a branch hanging above his head and plucked a green leaf.
"For the sake of the land," he said, "for you, for the woods—so that no strange thing shall appear here, and that you shall not hear a strange language, and that everything here shall always be as it is, as It is what it should be, and at the same time, it is for us to live, to breathe the pure, sweet, holy air of our homeland."
The girl touched her head with her hand, as if she had suddenly shivered.
"Go!" she said softly. "have a good night!"
"Good night! But where shall I find you?"
She put her arms around his neck and said, "I will stay in this place forever."
He kissed her.
"Good night, Regina!"
She let go of her arms around his neck.Gabriel stepped out into the moonlight; when he came to the end of the meadow, he turned his head again; he seemed to see, in the dark forest shadows where they had just parted, the girl's childish, lovely The figure still stood motionless.
I closed the diary and looked up at the gray sky outside the earth house.Gabriel came up to me and leaned the polished gun against my shoulder.The gun was shining and seemed to be blinking at me.But I, thinking only of the story I just read, asked Gabriel:
"Then what does this dead leaf signify?"
"Look at you again!" he exclaimed. "No, it's green and green, like leaves in June!"
"Perhaps you will never go there again?"
"Page 113!" He smiled.
So, I flipped through that old book again.Still poetry!
"But what if she comes after all?" I said.
"Then we'll have our guns well loaded! For it will show that the wood, with all its beauty, is in the enemy's hands."
Notes:
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