DawnBlossomsPluckedatDusk - (EPUB全文下载)

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书籍内容：

Contents

■ Preface
■ Dogs, Cats, and Mice
■ Ah Chang and the Book of Hills and Seas
■ The Picture-Book of Twenty-Four Acts of Filial Piety
■ The Fair of the Five Fierce Gods
■ Wu Chang or Life-Is-Transient
■ From Hundred-Plant Garden to Three-Flavour Study
■ Father's Illness
■ Fragmentary Recollections
■ Mr.Fujino
■ Fan Ainong
■ Postscript
■ Preface
I often hanker after a little peace and respite from confusion, but it is
really hard to come by. The present is so bizarre and my state of mind so confused. When a man
reaches the stage when all that remains to him is memories, his life should probably count as
futile enough, yet sometimes even memories may be lacking. In China there are rules for
writing, and worldly affairs still move in a tortuous course. A few days ago when I left Sun
Yat-sen University, I remembered how I left Amoy University four months ago; and the drone of
planes overhead reminded me of the planes which, a year ago, had circled daily over Peking. At
that time I wrote a short essay called “The Awakening.” Today, even this fails to
“awaken”me.
It certainly grows hot early in Guangzhou; the rays of the setting sun
shining through the west window force one to wear nothing but a shirt at most. The
“water-bough” in a basin on my desk is something quite new to me, a lopped-off
bough which, immersed in water, will put out lovely green leaves. Looking at these green leaves
and editing some old manuscripts mean that I am doing something, I suppose. Doing such trifling
things, although really tantamount to death in life, is an excellent way of banishing the
heat.
The day before yesterday I finished editing Wild Grass; now it is the
turn of Recollections of the Past, serialized in the magazine Wilderness, and I have changed
its name to Dawn Blossoms Plucked at Dusk. Of course flowers plucked with dew on them are much
fresher and sweeter, but I was unable to gather these at dawn. Even now I cannot readily
transpose my confused thoughts and feelings into bizarre, confused writings. Perhaps some day
when I look up at the fleeting clouds, they may flash before my eyes.
For a time I kept recalling the vegetables and fruits I ate as a child in
my old home: caltrops, horse-beans, water bamboo shoots, musk-melons. So succulent, so delicious
were they all, they beguiled me into longing for my old home. Late ............

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