白岩松·《家在途中》英译

家在途中

白岩松

对于我来说，家的概念随着年龄的变化而不断变化。

在童年的时候，家是一声声呼唤。那时的我似乎比今日的孩子拥有更多的自由。放学后不会先在父母前露面，而是与住的相邻的同学聚在一起，天马行空，玩的天昏地暗，直到炊烟散去，听见父母“喂，回家了，吃饭了”的呼唤才回家，这样的声音伴着我慢慢长大，日复一日，至今仍在我的耳旁回响。

一转眼，童年过去了，当胡须慢慢从嘴角长出，家又成了一个想逃的地方。

书看多了，世界也变大了，一张床小了，父母的叮咛也显得多余了，盼望着什么时候我能拥有自己的天空？后来，穿上了绿色的军装，来到了部队，家又变成了一封封信笺，每次收到信后，是最想家的时候。

走上了工作岗位之后，开始“受伤”，开始在人海中翻腾，开始知道，有些疼痛无法对人说，甚至知心的朋友。于是，重新开始想家。当受了“重伤”时，幻想着飞到远方的家中，在推开家门的一瞬，让自己泪流满面。此刻，世界很大，而我所需要的，只是家中那种熟悉的味道，那窗前一成不变的风景……

远离母亲，在外省生存，工作之余便有无数个周末无处打发，手中的电话本很厚，从头翻到尾，却没有一个号码是为我此时准备的。这个时候，家又变成了自己要和另外一个人建立的那一个新的小家。

从相识、相恋到相拥，一个平凡的日子里，我拥有了一个平凡的小家。此时，家的概念又变了，它是深夜回家时那盏为你点起的灯，是傍晚你看看书我看看电视偶尔交谈几句的那种宁静，是一桌胃口不好时也吃得下的饭菜，是得意忘形时可以呼朋唤友可以张口粗话的地方。

不久前，我成了父亲，我和一个新的生命在家中相逢，一种奇妙的感受充斥着我的心，小生命开始让我“玩物丧志”，想挣脱却又那么愿意沉溺其中，一种用幸福来缚住你的力量。

家的概念在不停地变换着，生命在这种变换中匆匆地走着。众多的概念中，家有时也意味着一种悲伤。比如当年父亲的辞世，便让我知道，世界对你的伤害加在一起有时也不如家中的变故给你的伤害大。然而在家中，你也会感受到一种坚强，比如父亲过世后，柔弱的母亲开始变得坚强，她带着我们哥俩，一步一步地从变故中走出，之后，家又重新“站立”了起来，又变得祥和，变得不再阴云密布。在这个过程中，家又像是一种生命力顽强的植物：野火烧不尽，春风吹又生。

生命起步虽久，前路却还遥远。家的概念还会变换，然而我已经知道，家是奔波的意义，只是这家有时是自己的，有时是芸芸众生的。

Home: A Changing Concept

Bai Yansong

To me, the concept of home changes continually along with my age.

In my childhood, home was a string of calls. It seems that I was entitled to more freedom than today’s children. I didn’t have to show up in front of my parents right after school, instead I would go to play with my classmates who lived in the neighborhood. We frolicked like mad until dinner was ready and our parents called “Come back! Come home for supper!” Days passed by as I grew up in the company of those calls. Even now the ringing voices are still echoing in my ears.

In a wink, my childhood was gone. When a thin layer of hair began to grow around the corners of my mouth, home became a place I tried to escape from.

As I read more and more, my world opened up, presenting a broader picture before me. The bed I used to sleep in became too small, and words of care from my parents began to sound superfluous. How I wished I could have a space of my own someday! Later I was enlisted into the army and put on the green uniform. During my service days, home was the series of letters I received one after another. My most homesick moments were when I read those letters from my family.

When I got a job, I began to get “hurt”, to rise and fall in a sea of people, and to understand that you can’t share all your pains with other people, even with your best friends. So again, another wave of homesickness came over me. When I was badly hurt, I imagined myself flying home on wings. Pushing open the door, I let tears flow down my face. At that moment I felt that as large as the world was, what I needed was only the familiar smell of home and the unchanged view outside the window of my old house…

Struggling for mere existence in a place far from my mother, I was often at a loss what to do after work and on the weekend. Picking up a thick telephone book, I leafed through it from cover to cover but found not a single number I could call. At this time home appeared in my mind as a cozy nest I yearned to build with another person.

From dating to engagement, we finally fell into each other’s arms and decided to step into marriage. Thus on an ordinary day we formed an ordinary family. Then the concept of home changed again: it became the light left on for you when you return late at night; the peacefulness in which you occasionally exchange words, one reading a book, the other watching TV; and a place where you can entertain friends and use foul langue when you feel elated.

Not long ago I became a father. When I greeted into my family the birth of a new life, an odd sensation welled up in my heart. The little creature obsessed me so much that though I tried to get rid of it I only found myself all the more indulging myself with it. That is a kind of force that binds you with a sense of happiness.

The concept of home kept changing as my life hurried along. Among the many definitions I gave to it, there is one which relates to grief. I remember, for instance, how my father’s early death led me to understand all the injuries inflicted by the world added together are sometimes less devastating than a single misfortune in your family. However, you may also feel a kind of strength in your family. After my father’s death, my mother, who used to be quiet and gentle, became strong and indomitable. She led my brother and me out of our misery and we got back on our feet again. Tranquility came back to my home, where happiness reigned as before. In retrospect, I can compare home to an unyielding plant: it may be burnt down by wildfire, but it will sprout again when the spring breeze blows.

Although I already have much life experience behind me, I know there is still a long way ahead and my concept of home will go on evolving. But already I have come to see that home is where we can find the true meaning of all the hectic rush of life. What makes the concept different is that sometimes it refers to an individual’s home and sometimes to the home of many, many people.