二
黑夜掐断，
白昼的长帘；
人生的悲喜，
反复回环。
两个消瘦硕长的身影，
辉映冰雪覆盖的
山村泉水边。
一个敌机轰炸的清晨。
燃烧弹堵塞
山径通道，
杨艺萍和江惠，
连续背着伤员，
撤离死亡降临的地堡。
疯狂的轰炸声，
无休止地摇撼山林。
冰河边惊慌失措的小鹿，
等待瞬间的安静。
低空扫射的敌机，
汽油弹狂烧小树林，
昼夜奋战的年轻女护士，
哪有能力赶走死神。
江惠摇摇晃晃，
将曹牧云背出地堡。
另一个伤员被炸倒，
血泊中闭上眼睛。
制造死亡的美军飞机，
得意洋洋地飞去。
战地医院的同志，
掩埋了战友的尸体。
江惠止不住，
凄然哭泣；
这位仁慈的苏州姑娘，
不禁想起儿时的日本飞机，
在逃难上海的流亡途中，
枉死的父亲和弟弟，
倒在黄浦江边。
杨艺萍倚着江惠，
在无声地流泪。
战争使她经历过，
太多的苦难，
如同祖国大地，
常遇风暴，屡遭惊雷。
一个风雪交加的夜晚，
伤员曹牧云，
被抬上汽车转院。
江惠轻声慢语嘱咐，
犹如月光下溪流潺缓：
“到后方医院静心养伤，
常写信来报个平安。”
杨艺萍留恋的眼神，
传递生死相恋的瞬间；
她悄悄塞给，
曹牧云一个纸包，
叮嘱他到目的地，
才允许观看。
年青人的心，
狂喜跳动；
自有一种幸福预感。
躺在运输伤员的汽车里，
目送那座战地医院，
茅屋愈来愈小，
公路越行越远。
仿佛他要离去的
不是死神的寻视点，
而是梦幻中的伊甸园。
Chapter 4
Why the god of fate destines
That not let my chop- and- change lute
Only sing the brilliant heroic glories
The old and gray days’ friendship and
Love unknown by the world?
—Pushkin
The god of Death and Cupid
Cross at the gap between blood and fire
2
The pitch-black night cut down the brightness of
Long daylight, like a flashing
Of a circle of happiness and sorrows of
The earthly life; two thin and long figures moving
As dark shades crept over the edges of
The hill brook running
Still under the icy-snowy surface.
The early morning when the enemy planes come bombing,
The incendiary bombs' fire blocked mountain passes,
Forced Yang Yi-ping and Jiang Hui withdrawing
With the wounded soldiers on their backs
Away from the death threatening,
Away from their bunkers;
The noises of bombers busting were deafening,
Endlessly shook the hills and trees;
A little deer, seemed in panic, standing
On the edge of the icy-river,
Waited for a quiet moment.
UN jet fighters swooped down with machine-guns,
Several napalm bombs striking a grove of pines.
Serviced with days and nights those young nurses
Now in the boiling smoke and banning fires.
Jiang Hui bent and walked with
A clumsy sway rescued Cao Mu-yun from
A bunker, but eyed another war-victim
In his bleeding straps died.
The death-making American planes
Gone in their air, the people
Of field surgical hospital dug the holes
And buried the dead ones.
Jiang Hui couldn’t hold her tears
Back in eyes in sorrow, because
She recalled the heart-broken days
When Japan airplanes bombed at Shanghai city,
let her father and young brother as refugees
died on the road, hit by a bloody bomb-splinter,
Near the bank of Huangpu River.
Cried in silence,
Yang Yi-ping leaned against Jiang Hui
She had experienced so many miseries
Through old war-time, like
A succession of harsh and tyrannical disasters
Kept running through the fatherland.
On a windy-snowy night,
Wounded Cao Mu-yun
On a stretcher transferred into a truck;
With her soft voice, Jiang Hui said to him
As the smooth-flowing of a moonlighted-brook:
“In the hospital behind lines stay calmly,
Please often send me a letter
Let me know you always ok.”
Be her love and yet her in his eyes,
A flower feeds on the sun.
A paper wrap mildly put into his hands,
The voice warm
Dropped to a whisper:
“Don’t open it unless
The destination approached.”
At the moment the beating of a young heart
Suddenly echoed the love-thinking ahead.
Lay on the truck
That transforming backward casualties
And the field- hospital his glance traveled down
And the mud huts dim-smaller in distance
And the road quiet long gone
Beneath the skies；
All that he now left behind seemingly
Not the gory fields
Death –wallowed but instead the Eden in pink dreams.
