STUDY IN CHINA GLOBAL (SCG)作品原文
冰心 《我的家在哪里》
梦，最能“暴露”和“揭发”一个人灵魂深处连自己都没有意识到的“向往”和“眷恋”。梦，就会告诉你，你自己从来没有想过的地方和人。
昨天夜里，我忽然梦见自己在大街旁边喊“洋车”。有一辆洋车跑过来，车夫是一个膀大腰圆、脸面很黑的中年人，他放下车把，问我：“你要上哪儿呀？”我感觉到他称“你”而不是“您”，我一定还很小，我说：“我要回家，回中剪子巷。”他就把我举上车去，拉起就走。走穿许多黄土铺地的大街小巷，街上许多行人，男女老幼，都是“慢条斯理”地互相作揖、请安、问好，一站就站老半天。
这辆洋车没有跑，车夫只是慢腾腾地走呵走呵，似乎走遍了北京城，我看他褂子背后都让汗水湿透了，也还没有走到中剪子巷！
这时我忽然醒了，睁开眼，看到墙上挂着的文藻的相片，我迷惑地问我自己：“这是谁呀？中剪子巷里没有他！”连文藻都不认识了，更不用说睡在我对床的陈屿大姐和以后进到屋里来的女儿和外孙了！
只有住着我的父母和弟弟们的中剪子巷才是我灵魂深处永久的家。连北京的前圆恩寺，在梦中我也没有去找过，更不用说美国的娜安辟迦楼，北京的燕南园，云南的默庐，四川的潜庐，日本东京麻布区，以及伦敦、巴黎、柏林、开罗、莫斯科一切我住过的地方，偶然也会在我梦中出现，但都不是我的“家”！
这时，我在枕上不禁回溯起这九十年所走过的甜、酸、苦、辣的生命道路，真是“万千恩怨集今朝”，我的眼泪涌了出来……
前天下午我才对一位年轻朋友戏说：“我这人真是‘一无所有’！从我身上是无‘权’可‘夺’，无‘官’可‘罢’，无‘级’可‘降’，无 ‘款’可‘罚’，地道的无顾无虑，无牵无挂，抽身便走的人，万万没有想到我还有一个我自己不知道的，牵不断、割不断的朝思暮想的‘家’！”
作品译文
Middle Scissors Lane
Bing Xin
Dreams are the means by which the deepest places of one’s soul, and even the associations and emotional attachments which one is not even aware of, are exposed and laid bare. Dreams tell you about places and people you never thought about before.
Last night I dreamed that I was standing by the roadside hailing a rickshaw. One came by, pulled by a fat man with a big, round belly. He was middle-aged, with a dark face. He put the rickshaw shafts down and asked me: “Where do you want to go?” He spoke to me as if to a child, and so I got the impression that I must be very young. I replied, “I want to go home, back to Middle Scissors Lane.” He then helped me into the rickshaw and set off. Away we went along broad streets and narrow alleys. In the streets were a lot of pedestrians. Men and women, young and old were all bowing to each other and extending greetings in a leisurely way. When they stopped, they remained standing.
The rickshaw did not go quickly at all. In fact, the rickshaw man seemed to be crawling along. We seemed to wander all over Beijing. I noticed that his back was drenched in sweat, but we still hadn’t reached Middle Scissors Lane!
At this point I woke up with a start. Opening my eyes, I saw a photograph of my husband Wenzao on the wall. Perplexed, I asked myself: “Who is that? He doesn’t belong to Middle Scissors Lane.” If I didn’t even recognize my husband, it goes without saying that I didn’t recognize elder sister Chen Yu either, who was sleeping in the opposite bed, or my daughter and grandson, who came in later.
Deep down in my soul my eternal home was Middle Scissors Lane, where my parents and younger brothers lived. In my dreams it seemed that I had never been to Beijing’s Qian Yuan En Temple. It follows, of course, that much less had I ever been to the United States, Yannanyuan in Beijing, Molu in Yunnan Province, Qianlu in Sichuan Province, Mashi District in Tokyo, or London, Paris, Cairo, Moscow, and all the other places I had lived in. But none of them was my home!
Then, as I lay back on my pillow I could not help retracing the road I had travelled over the last ninety years. At times sweet, at times sour, at times bitter, and again, at times stinging. Tears rolled down my cheeks as “a lifetime’s gratitude and regret were packed into one morning”
Two days before I had joked to a young friend: “I really am a ‘person who has nothing to lose.’ I have no ‘rights’ that can be taken away, no ‘office’ that I can be dismissed from, no ‘rank’ that I can tumble from, no ‘fortune’ that can be siphoned off in fines. I really do have nothing to care for or worry about. There are no strings or ties to bind me. I can just get up and go whenever I please.” Never did it occur to me that there might be something I didn’t know about, something that I was secretly yearning for day and night. It was something from which I could never break the connection. That something was “home”.
