Chapter 5 5

Why are you sitting there on the floor without saying a word, tell me, mother dear? The rain comes in through the open window and drenches you all over, but you don't care. Did you hear the clock strike four?It was time for my brother to come home from school. What the hell happened, you look so wrong? Didn't you get a letter from dad today? I saw the postman bring in a lot of letters in his bag, and deliver them to almost everyone in the town. Only father's letter, he kept it for himself to read.I'm sure the postman is a bad guy. But don't be unhappy about it, dear mother.

Tomorrow is the day of the neighboring village market.You tell the maid to get some pens and paper. I can write all the letters my father writes myself; so that you can't find a mistake. I'm going to write from the A word all the way to the K word. But, mother, why are you laughing? You don't believe I can write as well as Dad! But I will draw the grid carefully, and make all the letters large and beautiful. When I've written it, do you think I'm just as foolish as Daddy to put it in the dreaded postman's bag? Immediately I will bring it to you myself, and help you read it letter by letter.

I know the postman won't send you really good letters. Mom, let's imagine we are traveling through a strange and dangerous land. You are sitting in a sedan chair, and I am riding beside you on a red horse. It was evening, and the sun had already set.The wastelands of Joradish spread before us wearily and grayly, the land desolate and barren. You're frightened, thinking—"I don't know where we've gotten." I say to you, "Mom, don't be afraid." A narrow, rugged path ran through the meadow, prickly and needle-like. There was not a single cow to be seen on the vast expanse; they had gone back to their village stables.

It was getting dark, the earth and the sky were dim, and we could not tell where we were going. Suddenly, you called me and asked me quietly, "What kind of fire is near the river bank?" At that moment a terrible cry broke out, and the shadows of many people ran towards us. You squatted in your sedan chair, praying the name of God over and over again. The bearers, trembling with fear, hid in the thorn bushes. I shout to you, "Don't be afraid, mother, I'm here." With long sticks in their hands and loose hair, they got closer and closer. I yelled, "Beware! You rascals! One more step and you're going to die."

With another terrible cry they rushed forward. You grabbed my hand and said, "Good boy, for heaven's sake, avoid them." I said, "Mom, look at me." So I spurred my horse, and galloped on, my sword and shield clashing against each other. This battle is so fierce, mother, if you can see it from the sedan chair, you will definitely shudder. Many of them escaped, and many others were killed. I know you were sitting there alone thinking, your baby must be dead by this time. But I ran up to you, spattered with blood, and said, "Mom, the war is over now." You stepped out of the palanquin, kissed me, and held me to your heart, and you said to yourself, "I don't know what I should do if I don't have my children to escort me."

A thousand boring things happen every day, why can't such a thing come true by chance? It's a lot like a story in a book. My brother would say, "Is that possible? I keep thinking, he's so weak!" People in our village were all surprised and said, "Isn't it lucky that the child is with his mother?" It's time for me to go, mother, I'm going. When in the dark of the lonely dawn you stretch out your arms for your baby which sleeps in the bed, I shall say, "The baby is not there!"--mother, I am going. I want to be a breeze that caresses you; I want to be a ripple in water that kisses and kisses you when you bathe.

On a windy night, when the raindrops are pattering among the leaves, you will hear my whisper in your bed, and when the lightning flashes through the open window into your house, my laughter will flash in with it . If you lie awake thinking of your baby late into the night, I shall sing to you from the stars, "Sleep, mother, sleep." I will sit on the wandering moonbeams here and there, sneak up on your bed, and lie on your bosom while you are asleep. I want to become a dream, from the tiny opening of your eyelids, into the depths of your sleep.When you wake up and look around startled, I flit like a twinkling firefly into the darkness.

When the neighbor's children come to play in the house on the puja festival, I will melt into the sound of the flute and vibrate in your heart all day long. Dear auntie brings pujali and asks, "Where is our baby, sister?" Mother, you are going to tell her softly, "He, he is in my pupils now, he is now It is in my body and in my soul." ①Puja means "the ceremony of offering sacrifices to the gods", and the "Puja Festival" here refers to the "difficult mother sacrifice day" in October in India. ②Paya ceremony refers to the gifts given to each other by relatives and friends on this festival.

When she left, the night was dark and they were all asleep. Now, too, the night is dark, and I call to her, "Come back, my darling; the world is sleeping, and when the stars gaze at each other, no one will know when you come." When she left, the trees were sprouting, and spring had just arrived. Now that the flowers are in full bloom, I call, "Come back, my darling. The children are playing carelessly, gathering flowers together and scattering them. If you come and take a little flower, no one will notice." of." Those who used to play, are still playing, life is always so wasted.

I listened to their empty talk, and called out, "Come back, my darling, mother's heart is full of love, if you come here and just take a little kiss from her, no one will be jealous." Oh, these jasmines, these white jasmines! I seem to remember the first time I filled my hands with these jasmines, these white jasmines. I love the sun, the sky, and the green earth; I hear the gurgling of the river in the dark midnight; the autumn sunset greets me at the corner of the road on the wasteland, like a bride unveiling her veil to greet her lover. But I think of the white jasmine I held in my hand for the first time as a child, and my heart is filled with sweet memories.

Many a happy day in my life, I have laughed with the jokers on festival nights. On gray rainy mornings, I have recited many flowing poems. I used to wear a wreath of drunken flowers hand-woven by my lover as an evening dress. But I think of the white jasmine I held in my hand for the first time as a child, and my heart is filled with sweet memories. O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing by the pool, have you forgotten the little child like the bird that nested in your branch and left you? Don't you remember how he sat at the window and looked at you in amazement at the tangled roots that went deep into the ground? The women would come to fill their jars in the pool, and your huge black shadow would wriggle on the water like sleep struggling to wake up. The sun dances on the waves like restless little shuttles weaving a golden tapestry. The two ducks were next to the reeds, swimming up and down in the shadows of the reeds, and the child sat there quietly thinking. He wants to be the wind blowing through your rustling branches; he wants to be your shadow on the water growing with the sun; he wants to be a bird perched on your highest branch; A duck, swimming among the reeds and shadows. Bless this little heart, this pure white soul, who won the kiss of heaven for our earth. He loves daylight, he loves seeing his mother's face. He has not learned to loathe dust and crave gold. Hold him tight in your heart and bless him. He has come to this land full of divergences. I don't know how he picked you out of the crowd, came to your door and grabbed your hand to ask the way. He smiled, talked, and followed you without any doubts in his heart. Don't betray his trust, guide him in the right way, and bless him. Lay your hand on his head, and pray: though the waves below are treacherous, the wind from above will fill his sails and send him to the harbor of peace. Don't forget him in your busy schedule, let him come to your heart, and bless him. I want to send you something, my child, for we are both adrift in the streams of the world. Our lives will be divided and our love will be forgotten. But I'm not that stupid, hoping to buy your heart with my giveaway. Your life is Qingqing, and your path is long. You drank the love we brought you in one breath, then turned around and ran away from us. You have your game and your playmate.If you have no time for us, if you cannot think of us, what harm is it? As for us, naturally, when we are old, we will have a lot of leisure time to count the past days and caress in our hearts what has been lost forever in our hands. The river sang and flowed quickly, breaking all the embankments.But the mountain peak stayed there, thinking about it, full of affection. My child, this song of mine will spread its music around you like the loving arms of love. This song of mine will touch your forehead like that blessed kiss. When you are alone, it will sit beside you and whisper in your ear; when you are in a crowd, it will surround you and make you stand out. My song will be the wings of your dreams, it will carry your heart to the shores of the unknown. When the night covers your way, it will become the faithful starlight that shines on your head. My song shall sit again in the pupil of your eye, and bring your gaze into the heart of all things. When my voice is silenced by death, still my song will sing in my living heart. They clamored and fought, they doubted and despaired, they debated without result. My child, let your life come among them, like a ray of calm and pure light, that delights and silences them. Their covetousness and envy are cruel; their words, like hidden knives, thirst for blood. Go, go, my child, stand in their resentful hearts, and cast your kind eyes upon them, as the generous peace of the evening covers the troubles of the day. My child, let them look into your face, so they can know the meaning of all things; let them love you, so they can love each other. Come and sit on the breast of the Infinity, my child.When the sun rises, open and lift your heart like a blooming flower; when the sun sets, bow your head and finish the day's worship silently. last deal In the morning, walking on the paved road, I cried, "Who will hire me?" The emperor came in a chariot, sword in hand. He took my hand and said, "I'm going to use power to hire you." But his power was nothing, and he rode away in a carriage. When it was hot at noon, the doors of every house were closed. I walked down the buckling alley. An old man came out with a bag of money. He thought about it and said, "I will hire you with money." He counted his money one by one, but I turned away. It was evening, and the garden hedge was full of flowers. The beauty came out and said, "I will hire you with a smile." Her smile faded to tears, and she turned alone into the darkness. The sun shone on the sand, and the waves splashed wildly. A child is sitting playing with seashells. He looked up, as if he knew me, and said, "I don't need anything to hire you." Henceforth, a sale made in this child's game has made me a free man.