历史的遐想（附 英译文）

走进周村

就是轻叩你成长的大地

每一段旧墙下都可以遇到你掩卷遐思的背影

你应该是一缕风

风走过的路才更远

更远的你搅动了晚清和民国的风云

你应该是一滴水

水融入了江河

才能翻起跌宕的浪花

一滴水的你托起了多灾多难的国家

走进周村

就是翻阅一大堆画卷

画卷里 你有野草一般繁茂的子嗣

一长串鲜活的名字 如同繁星

让每一个夜晚明亮

如同春花 让每一块土壤灿烂

都说读书破万卷

可你却走出书斋，裘马轻狂

你登临绝顶  睥睨众山

历史书写你 你也书写着历史

那一年

你走彭泽 奔东流

登城外营垒

见饥民僵毙 人烟寥落

喟然叹曰 独携书剑走天涯

那一年

你着锦衣 系绶带

将马匹停在故乡

小儿奔走相告 乡亲前呼后拥

你坚毅的面容 依然像从前一样硬朗

遥望周村

就是打开一部家族的神话

总统府里你峨冠博带的塑像让人浮想联翩

小盘谷里“风清南服”的牌匾熠熠生辉

天津的大街小巷处处盛满你整个家族的传说

青岛的每一片白云还记得你为国家奔走斡旋

我想知道

风雨飘摇中你迈着怎样的步履走出周村

我想知道

一个文弱书生如何恪守家训家规让子孙后代与时代共旋律

我还想知道

跟着你 能否就寻找到一种有厚度的人生

让我回到唐朝

那样  我就可以与“咸通十哲”中一个姓周的文人

穿长袍佩长剑 边饮酒边高声笑谈

让我回到宋朝

那样  我就可以与另一个姓周的武将

骑白马披甲胄 手举丈八蛇矛 枪挑辽营

我更想回到咸丰十一年

那样  我就可以与你——纸坑山出生的年轻人

出池州   过大通 到繁昌

一路踏上从戎治水办学兴商的征途

我根本无法穿越

我只能在一个个蝌蚪式的文字中

想象洋务运动中的那位重要人物

我只能在一尊尊浮雕石梁前

倾听近代工业之父的不老传奇

我只能在一扇扇镂空人兽花鸟窗格前

猜测东至周氏家族的昨天

在历史的河流前遐想

那每一朵浪花里都是你奔腾不息的步伐

那每一个拐弯处都有你掷地有声的呐喊

沿着周氏家族的谱系打量

蓬门小户有书香

百年家风留美名

The Reverie of History（英译）

Entering the Zhou village

would be gently knocking the door of your past.

Your image of contemplating in front of books

can be encountered at every corner.

You could be a gentle breeze.

A breeze can travel farther,

taking me to the late Qing Dynasty and the era of Republic of China

when you agitated the winds and the clouds.

You could be a drop of water,

making heroic waves after dissolving into the river.

You, a drop of water,

lifted the country of catastrophes and disasters onto your shoulders.

Entering the Zhou village

would be reading a pile of scrolls,

in which your descendants are as exuberant as wild grass.

A long list of outstanding names is,

on the one hand, stars in the sky, lightening every dark night,

and, on the other, flowers in the spring, decorating every piece of soil.

When everybody was attempting to read thousands of books,

you had already walked away from the den.

You, the Chevalier,

reached the peak with your horse and overlooked the mountains.

You write the history;

the history also writes about you.

In that year, you travelled along the eastern streams

and walked up the fortresses outside Pengze.

When you saw people having starved to death in the sparsely populated town,

you lamented and wandered around the country alone with books and swords.

In that year, you, in silk clothes and fabric ribbons,

stopped the horse at your home village.

Children were shouting your names;

folks were hugging your arms.

Your staunch countenance persevered as always.

Looking into the Zhou village from distance

would be reading a mythology of clan.

In the Emperor’s palace,

your statue with crown and gown arouses countless connotations.

In the Little Pangu Garden, the plaque inscribed

“Exemplar of Probity and Virtue of the South” shines brightly.

Every street corner in Tianjin

is imbued with your legendary stories.

Every piece of cloud in Qingdao

remembers the scarifications you made for the country.

I wonder

how you courageously walked away from the Zhou village in heavy storms.

I wonder

how you, a humble scholar,

inherit your family rules and pass them on to your descendants

so that they prevail in each generation of the history.

I also wonder,

by following you,

whether I will have searched a life of integrity and profundity.

Let me transcend to the Tang Dynasty

so that I could chat, drink and laugh with Mr. Zhou,

one of the ten literati of Xiantong era,

who was in long gowns and with long swords.

Let me transcend to the Song Dynasty

so that I could raid the Liao site with General Zhou,

who rode a white horse, wore suits of armor

and held a long snake-spear.

More I want to transcend to the eleventh year of the Xianfeng era

so that I can travel with you,

the young man born in Zhikeng Mountain,

to Chizhou, Datong and Fanchang for journeys of joining the army,

controlling flood, founding schools and running business.

And yet I cannot transcend time.

I can only imagine the important figure of the Westernisation Movement

by carefully reading every stroke of the text;

I can only hear the long-lasting legacy of the father of industrialisation

by standing in front of reliefs and statues;

I can only speculate the past of the Zhou family of Dongzhi

by looking through the fanciful window lattices.

Having lost in the reverie of history,

found in every spindrift is your surging footsteps;

heard in every corner is your authoritative word.

Looking through the genealogy of the Zhou family,

every door is brimming with the fragrance of books

and every household with the aspiration of knowledge.

If one thing is to endure,

it is the hundred-year glory of the Zhou family.

Translated by Danny Q. Zhou

翻译：周全