Spring time – 春天 – English

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So, spring has arrived, but not with a bang or a crash. The warning signs are all too familiar: the creeping allergies, the waking up itching in the middle of the night, befuddled. I’m mentally composing a new essay; even when I get up in the morning I can dimly remember and rush to the computer to write it down. Alas, maybe next spring I’ll be able to pin down that opening paragraph I’m searching for in my dreams. When the wind blows and I look out on a yellow haze, the whole city whirling in a dust storm, I’d still rather have a yellowed Beijing, because I’m so sick of the usual dull grey. One day going out the door I caught sight of the jasmine vine, that symbol of welcoming spring, that grows over the wall of the public restrooms downstairs, flowering in profusion under a startling blue sky. Several old gaffers sit in the unbearably small garden, smoking and playing chess; several bird cages hang from a rustling tree. I bought a new dress, new white shirts – the dress $119, one shirt $49, the other $29, wrapped them all up for the post. After we farewelled some visitors, we took a walk in the neighbourhood, bought a mini icecream cone. After the brief minute it took to eat, I greatly regretted not buying the normal size. This district has barely any trees, just unending parked cars; we finally found a bench to sit down on, tried to speak of something in tune with this evening breeze. But turn your head, to the right is a row of dilapidated buildings, between the “New Model Rooms” and the “Specialty Noodles” is a dirty window, with “Baked Goods” painted in large red letters above. I had to laugh, springtime has arrived, but this doesn’t need speaking of, spring minds its own business as it comes and goes, we are just a place it visits along the way.

Two months ago I was dragged into a couple of huge forums on messaging app Weixin. In the high school group there is a guy I once secretly crushed on; even though we’ve never said a word, I still fantasize that he will take the initiative and ‘friend’ me, and then from time to time pay me compliments, and so forth. But it’s never happened. Even though its spring, it’s still never happened. In the group there’s someone who grows kiwifruit and loquat for sale, there’s someone who’s career has been so sucessful they’re in the public chat group for “Investor career women”. Someone else has been made redundant many times, they mulled over starting up a Taobao online shop selling cold rabbit meat from their hometown; dozens of people enthusiastically suggested names for his shop, but the matter was quietly dropped and hasn’t been mentioned again. There is someone who, when drunk, called on somebody else to return money. The person reminded of their debt asked for the account number right then and there, and then claimed he transferred the money right then and there. But the person who wanted the debt back says all along he hasn’t received the funds. As one of the anxious but silent bystanders, I think “If you say its been transferred, why don’t you take a screenshot?” Like most groups, when our reminiscences have been exhuasted, it falls silent.

I bought a new dress, new white shirts – the dress $119, one shirt $49, the other $29, wrapped them all up for the post. After we farewelled some visitors, we took a walk in the neighbourhood, bought a mini icecream cone. After the brief minute it took to eat, I greatly regretted not buying the normal size. This district has barely any trees, just unending parked cars; we finally found a bench to sit down on, tried to speak of something in tune with this evening breeze. But turn your head, to the right is a row of dilapidated buildings, between the “New Model Rooms” and the “Specialty Noodles” is a dirty window, with “Baked Goods” painted in large red letters above. I had to laugh, springtime has arrived, but this doesn’t need speaking of, spring minds its own business as it comes and goes, we are just a place it visits along the way.

When the wind blows and I look out on a yellow haze, the whole city whirling in a dust storm, I’d still rather have a yellowed Beijing, because I’m so sick of the usual dull grey.

One day going out the door I caught sight of the jasmine that grows over the wall of the public restrooms downstairs, flowering in profusion under a startling blue sky.

。有一天出门看见楼下迎春花在公共厕所边上乱糟糟开了,天空透着宝石蓝。几个老头坐在那个小得不得了的小花园里抽烟下棋,几个鸟笼子挂在瑟瑟发抖的小树上。我买了新的连衣裙,新的白衬衫,连衣裙119,衬衫一件49,一件29,统统包邮。我们在送走客人后去小区里散步,买一个迷你可爱多,一分钟吃完之后非常后悔没有买一个正常大小,小区里几乎没有树,连绵不断停着车,我们终于找到一张长椅坐下来,试图说点和这夜风相配的话语,但转头一看,右边是一排破破烂烂的平房,在“风行造型屋”和“云南过桥米钱”之间,有一扇脏兮兮的窗户,上面用红漆写着好大两个字:“大饼”。我哈哈笑起来,春天到了,原来这不需要任何话语,它是自顾自来了又去,我们只是它路过的地方。

前两个月我被拉进几个庞大的微信群组。中学那个群里有我曾经暗恋过的人,虽然一句话都没有说过,我还是幻想有一天他会主动加我,然后时不时给我点个赞之类,但这件事没有发生,即使在春天,还是没有发生。群里有人承包农场卖猕猴桃和枇杷,有人事业成功到进入“投资界女强人”的公共微信,也有人失业多时,酝酿着开淘宝店卖老家的冷吃兔肉,几十个人热心地替他起店名,但这件事却悄无声息再无下文。有人喝醉了酒,找另外一个人还钱,被催债的人现场要了帐号,号称现场打了过去,但要债的人一直说没有收到。我作为默默围观的群众急得要死:你说是转账了倒是截个屏啊?和大部分群一样,当回忆被消费殆尽,它沉默了下来。

大学同学群有57个人,反反复复讨论毕业十周年聚会,却反反复复没有个说法。那个群从热到我怎么刷也刷不到尽头,一直冷到即使有人发了自己养的乌龟,也只有寥寥无几的人回应。我们大学班上有59个人,失联的两个人里,甚至有一个我们不知道是谁,是的,每个人都穷尽了记忆,一个宿舍一个宿舍排下来,还是没有办法找到那个名字。我渐渐很少看群组消息和朋友圈,只是有时候做饭的中途,还是忍不住会苦苦思索一会儿:那是谁呢?那到底是谁呢?

更有时候,我惊叹那些在别人的世界里失踪得如此彻底的人,整整十年,她或者他,是怎么能在手机邮箱校友录开心网人人网微博微信的轮番袭击下,依然躲藏在某个无法被任何科技和回忆定位的小岛上呢?大概这个世界上就是有些人,像春天一样自顾自往前走,我们这些看起来不可逃避的人生关系,不过是他们路过的地方,他们不打算回头,更从没有留影,在每一个瞬间失去的春天里。



Source : Tianya

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February 3, 2015 @ 18:18:29Current Revision
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<p>So, spring has arrived, but not with a bang or a crash. The warning signs are all too familiar: the creeping allergies, the waking up itching in the middle of the night, befuddled. I’m mentally composing a new essay; even when I get up in the morning I can dimly remember and rush to the computer to write it down. Alas, maybe next spring I’ll be able to pin down that opening paragraph I’m searching for in my dreams. When the wind blows and I look out on a yellow haze, the whole city whirling in a dust storm, I’d still rather have a yellowed Beijing, because I’m so sick of the usual dull grey. One day going out the door I caught sight of the jasmine vine, that symbol of welcoming spring, that grows over the wall of the public restrooms downstairs, flowering in profusion under a startling blue sky. Several old gaffers sit in the unbearably small garden, smoking and playing chess; several bird cages hang from a rustling tree. I bought a new dress, new white shirts – the dress $119, one shirt $49, the other $29, wrapped them all up for the post. After we farewelled some visitors, we took a walk in the neighbourhood, bought a mini icecream cone. After the brief minute it took to eat, I greatly regretted not buying the normal size. This district has barely any trees, just unending parked cars; we finally found a bench to sit down on, tried to speak of something in tune with this evening breeze. But turn your head, to the right is a row of dilapidated buildings, between the “New Model Rooms” and the “Specialty Noodles” is a dirty window, with “Baked Goods” painted in large red letters above. I had to laugh, springtime has arrived, but this doesn’t need speaking of, spring minds its own business as it comes and goes, we are just a place it visits along the way.</p>  <p>So, spring has arrived, but not with a bang or a crash. The warning signs are all too familiar: the creeping allergies, the waking up itching in the middle of the night, befuddled. I’m mentally composing a new essay; even when I get up in the morning I can dimly remember it and rush to the computer to write it down. Alas, maybe next spring I’ll be able to pin down that opening paragraph I’m searching for in my dreams. When the wind blows I look out on a yellow haze, the whole city swirling in dust, but I’d rather have now a yellow Beijing since I’m so sick of the usual dull grey. One day going out the door I caught sight of the jasmine vine, that symbol of welcoming spring, that grows over the wall of the public restrooms downstairs, flowering in profusion under a startling blue sky. Several old gaffers sit in the unbearably small garden, smoking and playing chess; several bird cages hang from a rustling tree. I bought a new dress, new white shirts – the dress $119, one shirt $49, the other $29, including postage. After we farewelled some visitors, we took a walk in the neighbourhood, bought a mini icecream cone. After the brief minute it took to eat, I really regretted not buying the normal size. This district has barely any trees, just unending parked cars; we finally found a bench to sit down on, tried to speak of something in tune with this evening breeze. But turn your head, to the right is a row of dilapidated buildings, between the “New Model Rooms” and the “Specialty Noodles” is a dirty window, with “Baked Goods” painted in large red letters above. I had to laugh, springtime has arrived, but this doesn’t need speaking of, spring minds its own business as it comes and goes, we are just a place it visits along the way.</p>
<p>Two months ago I was dragged into a couple of huge forums on messaging app Weixin. In the high school group there is a guy I once secretly crushed on; even though we've never said a word, I still fantasize that he will take the initiative and 'friend' me, and then from time to time pay me compliments, and so forth. But it's never happened. Even though its spring, it's still never happened. In the group there's someone who grows kiwifruit and loquat for sale, there's someone who's career has been so sucessful they're in the public chat group for "Investor career women". Someone else has been made redundant many times, they mulled over starting up a Taobao online shop selling cold rabbit meat from their hometown; dozens of people enthusiastically suggested names for his shop, but the matter was quietly dropped and hasn't been mentioned again. There is someone who, when drunk, called on somebody else to return money. The person reminded of their debt asked for the account number right then and there, and then claimed he transferred the money right then and there. But the person who wanted the debt back says all along he hasn't received the funds. As one of the anxious but silent bystanders, I think "If you say its been transferred, why don't you take a screenshot?" Like most groups, when our reminiscences have been exhuasted, it falls silent. </p>  <p>Two months ago I was dragged into a couple of huge forums on messaging app Weixin. In the high school group there is a guy I once secretly crushed on; even though weve never spoken two words, I still fantasize that he will take the initiative and friend me, and then from time to time click 'like', and so forth. But its never happened. Even though its spring, it still hasn't happened. In the group theres someone who grows kiwifruit and loquat for sale, theres someone whos career has been so sucessful theyre in the public chat group for Investor career women. Someone else has been made redundant many times, and they mulled over starting up a Taobao online shop selling cold rabbit meat from their hometown; dozens of people enthusiastically suggested names for his shop, but the matter was quietly dropped and hasnt been mentioned again. There is someone who, when drunk, called on somebody else to repay a debt. The person reminded of their debt asked for the account number right then and there, and then claimed he transferred the money right then and there. But the person who wanted his money back says all along he hasnt received the funds. As one of the anxious, silent bystanders, I think If you say its been transferred, why on earth dont you take a screenshot? Like most groups, when our reminiscences have been exhuasted, the forum falls silent.</p>
<p>  
I bought a new dress, new white shirts - the dress $119, one shirt $49, the other $29, wrapped them all up for the post. After we farewelled some visitors, we took a walk in the neighbourhood, bought a mini icecream cone. After the brief minute it took to eat, I greatly regretted not buying the normal size. This district has barely any trees, just unending parked cars; we finally found a bench to sit down on, tried to speak of something in tune with this evening breeze. But turn your head, to the right is a row of dilapidated buildings, between the "New Model Rooms" and the "Specialty Noodles" is a dirty window, with "Baked Goods" painted in large red letters above. I had to laugh, springtime has arrived, but this doesn't need speaking of, spring minds its own business as it comes and goes, we are just a place it visits along the way.</p> <p>Our university classmates group has 57 members, they talk over and over about a 10 year anniversary reunion, but over and over <span style="color: #ff6600;">there’s no conclusion</span>. The forum ebbs and flows in popularity, from times when I can’t swipe to the end of the comments, to deserted – even if someone <span style="color: #ff6600;">posted something scandalous</span>, barely anyone would reply. Our university class had 59 people in it, of the missing two, we don’t know who one of them is. Truly, everyone has wracked their memory, listed the class out dorm room by dorm room, there’s still no way of knowing their name. I’ve gradually stopped looking at that forum and friends list, its just sometimes in the middle of cooking dinner, I still can’t help but strain my mind: Who was it? Who the heck was it?</p>
<p>When the wind blows and I look out on a yellow haze, the whole city whirling in a dust storm, I'd still rather have a yellowed Beijing, because I'm so sick of the usual dull grey.</p>  
<p>One day going out the door I caught sight of the jasmine that grows over the wall of the public restrooms downstairs, flowering in profusion under a startling blue sky.</p>  
<p>。有一天出门看见楼下迎春花在公共厕所边上乱糟糟开了,天空透着宝石蓝。几个老头坐在那个小得不得了的小花园里抽烟下棋,几个鸟笼子挂在瑟瑟发抖的小树上。我买了新的连衣裙,新的白衬衫,连衣裙119,衬衫一件49,一件29,统统包邮。我们在送走客人后去小区里散步,买一个迷你可爱多,一分钟吃完之后非常后悔没有买一个正常大小,小区里几乎没有树,连绵不断停着车,我们终于找到一张长椅坐下来,试图说点和这夜风相配的话语,但转头一看,右边是一排破破烂烂的平房,在“风行造型屋”和“云南过桥米钱”之间,有一扇脏兮兮的窗户,上面用红漆写着好大两个字:“大饼”。我哈哈笑起来,春天到了,原来这不需要任何话语,它是自顾自来了又去,我们只是它路过的地方。</p>  
<p>  
前两个月我被拉进几个庞大的微信群组。中学那个群里有我曾经暗恋过的人,虽然一句话都没有说过,我还是幻想有一天他会主动加我,然后时不时给我点个赞之类,但这件事没有发生,即使在春天,还是没有发生。群里有人承包农场卖猕猴桃和枇杷,有人事业成功到进入“投资界女强人”的公共微信,也有人失业多时,酝酿着开淘宝店卖老家的冷吃兔肉,几十个人热心地替他起店名,但这件事却悄无声息再无下文。有人喝醉了酒,找另外一个人还钱,被催债的人现场要了帐号,号称现场打了过去,但要债的人一直说没有收到。我作为默默围观的群众急得要死:你说是转账了倒是截个屏啊?和大部分群一样,当回忆被消费殆尽,它沉默了下来。</p>  
<p>  
大学同学群有57个人,反反复复讨论毕业十周年聚会,却反反复复没有个说法。那个群从热到我怎么刷也刷不到尽头,一直冷到即使有人发了自己养的乌龟,也只有寥寥无几的人回应。我们大学班上有59个人,失联的两个人里,甚至有一个我们不知道是谁,是的,每个人都穷尽了记忆,一个宿舍一个宿舍排下来,还是没有办法找到那个名字。我渐渐很少看群组消息和朋友圈,只是有时候做饭的中途,还是忍不住会苦苦思索一会儿:那是谁呢?那到底是谁呢?</p>  
<p>  
更有时候,我惊叹那些在别人的世界里失踪得如此彻底的人,整整十年,她或者他,是怎么能在手机邮箱校友录开心网人人网微博微信的轮番袭击下,依然躲藏在某个无法被任何科技和回忆定位的小岛上呢?大概这个世界上就是有些人,像春天一样自顾自往前走,我们这些看起来不可逃避的人生关系,不过是他们路过的地方,他们不打算回头,更从没有留影,在每一个瞬间失去的春天里。</p>  
  <p>More often, I gasp in admiration at these people who disappear so thoroughly from other people’s orbit. A full ten years, he or she, how could they, while under assault from cellphones, email, alumni networks, social networking, blogging, and message apps, still manage to hide themselves on some island unlocatable by any modern technology or burst of memory? Probably in this world there are some people, just like springtime, they mind their own business as they move on. It seems we can’t avoid relationships in life, however where they have passed through, they don’t plan to return, let alone leave a souvenir, <span style="color: #ff6600;">in each moment springtime passes</span></p>

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French-Australian writer, educator, sinophile. Any question? Contact julien@marcopoloproject.org