手中紙，心中愛
地道英文
此次小編節選的文章出自劉宇昆的短篇故事——《手中紙，心中愛》，故事講述的是一個身世不幸而後又輾轉嫁到大洋彼岸並獲得幸福婚姻的女孩兒成為母親後，由於一直融入不了當地的生活環境及文化背景，而導致了與兒子二十幾年的艱難相處。而兒子在母親去世後才發現了折紙上的字句，終於體會到母親的艱辛與偉大。文章用字並不華麗，也未過度修飾，而正因這種平實的風格才使得這個短篇故事靈耀動人。俗話說得好，大愛無言、真水無香。或許用任何世故手段都無法達到的人生境界就隻蘊藏在最簡單、最平淡、最幼稚的場景裏。
劉宇昆（Ken Liu，1976年—），男，美籍華裔科幻作家，職業為程序設計員與律師，業餘則從事寫作。2009年4月，《科幻世界》雜誌刊載了其兩篇小說《愛的算法》和《單比特錯誤》，因小說《愛的算法》深受讀者喜愛，才使得他的更多科幻小說得以在國內發表，從而被國內的科幻迷所熟知。2012年的5月及9月，劉宇昆憑借《手中紙，心中愛》斬獲星雲獎及雨果獎的最佳短篇故事獎，而其另一部作品《終結曆史的男人》也同樣獲得2012年星雲獎與雨果獎的中篇小說獎提名，但最終未能獲獎。雨果獎及星雲獎素有“科幻界的諾貝爾與奧斯卡”之稱，而劉宇昆也從此成為繼薑峰楠之後又一位華裔世界科幻最高雙獎的獲得者。
“How’ve you been， old 2）buddy？”
Laohu stopped playing. He got up， jumped with 3）feline grace into my lap， and 4）proceeded to unfold himself.
In my lap was a square of 5）creased wrapping paper， the plain side up. It was filled with dense Chinese characters. I had never learned to read Chinese， but I knew the characters for son， and they were at the top， where you’d expect them in a letter addressed to you， written in Mom’s awkward， childish handwriting.
I went to the computer to check Internet. Today was Qingming.
I took the letter with me downtown， where I knew the Chinese tour buses stopped. I stopped every tourist， asking， “Nin hui du zhongwen ma？” Can you read Chinese？ I hadn’t spoken Chinese in so long that I wasn’t sure if they understood. A young woman agreed to help. We sat down on a bench together， and she read the letter to me aloud. The language that I had tried to forget for years came back， and I felt the words sinking into me， through my skin， through my bones， until they 6）squeezed tight around my heart.
“最近怎樣啊？老夥計。”
小老虎停止撲騰，站直了身子，然後以貓科動物特有的優美姿勢跳到我腿上。接著它的身體開始肢解、舒展。
在我腿上留下的是一張皺巴巴的包裝紙，正麵朝下，反麵朝上。紙麵上綴滿密密麻麻的中國字。我沒學過中國字，但“兒子”兩個字還是認識的，它們在紙的最上方——隻有寫給某個人的信才會把對方的稱謂放在這個位置上。母親在信裏的字跡笨拙，一筆一畫都像個孩子寫的。
我跑到電腦前，打開網頁。今天正是清明。
我立馬帶上信跑到城裏，因為那裏可以遇到中國人的旅遊巴士。瞅見個長得像中國人的遊客，我就會跑上去問：“您會讀中文嗎？”因為很久沒說過中文了，為確保他們能明白我的問題，我又會用英語再問一遍，“您會讀中文嗎？”最後，一位年輕的女士同意幫我。我們找到一條長凳坐下。她一字一句地大聲把信念給我聽。多年來，我一直逃避驅趕的聲音終於又飄回到我的耳際，但這次它沒有被迅速遺忘，而是沉入心底，穿透皮膚，浸入骨髓；此後，我的內心翻江倒海，靈魂夜不能寐。
Son，
We haven’t talked in a long time. You are so angry when I try to touch you that I’m afraid. And I think maybe this pain I feel all the time now is something serious. So I decided to write to you. I’m going to write in the paper animals I made for you that you used to like so much.
The animals will stop moving when I stop breathing. But if I write to you with all my heart， I’ll leave a little of myself behind on this paper， in these words. Then， if you think of me on Qingming， when the spirits of the departed are allowed to visit their families， you’ll make the parts of myself I leave behind come alive too. The creatures I made for you will again leap and run and 7）pounce， and maybe you’ll get to see these words then. Because I have to write with all my heart， I need to write to you in Chinese.
All this time I haven’t told you the story of my life. When you were little， I always thought I’d tell you the story when you were older， so you could understand. But somehow that chance never 8）came up.
I was born in 1957， in Sigulu Village， Hebei Province. Sigulu is famous for its zhezhi 9）papercraft， and my mother taught me how to make paper animals and give them life. This was practical magic in the life of the village. We made paper birds to chase 10）grasshoppers away from the fields， and paper tigers to keep away the mice. For Chinese New Year my friends and I made red paper dragons. I’ll never forget the sight of all those little dragons 11）zooming across the sky overhead， holding up strings of exploding 12）firecrackers to scare away all the bad memories of the past year. You would have loved it.