WAITING FOR MUSHROOM 等待蘑菇

生活月刊|2011年5月号|总66期
摄影/撰文：DoDo Jin Ming（金旻）
“ 明天会出太阳……”
你坐在柴炉边说——“我们等待蘑菇吧。”
"Tomorrow the sun will come out..."
You sat by the wood stove, and said——
"We are waiting for mushroom."


偏僻而辽阔的Mabou——它的日子是所有的日子，它的时刻是所有的时刻。
当风吹过这片土地，风景里有一种浓郁、透彻的，仿佛是来自双重国度的东西——直抵灵魂。
“ ⋯⋯像创世的第一天那么宁静，不过它们已经知道了人世的悲伤⋯⋯”
悲伤，像一滴坠入灵魂中的水银；即使在最深沉的梦中，依然意识到它的存在。
Mabou, remote and vast ——its day is every day, its hour every hour.
When the wind sweeps over this land, there is something rich and penetrating,
as if another realm lay beyond it, reaching the soul.
"...Still as on the first day of creation, but acquainted with grief..."
Grief, like a drop of mercury in the soul, is aware of its own existence even in the deepest dream.

就在这一直延伸到海岸的山坡上，盛开着一片帕布鲁留下的雏菊，罗伯特指着那片游移的光线说，
“ 他的精神复归了⋯⋯”乌鸦不断地出现在那片天空，又返回高高的枝头，警觉地等待⋯⋯
日子被反复地思索和注视，问题被反复地提出；某种比欲望更深的东西令人沉默。
Here on the slopes down to the shore, blooming everywhere are daisies left by Pablo. Robert
points to the wavering light, says, "His spirit is back..."
The crows keep appearing in the sky, and returning to the treetops, to wait vigilantly...
Days perpetually pondered and gazed, questions repeatedly raised;
Something much deeper than desire makes one silent.


“ 地平线几乎是水平的⋯⋯”
他注视着灰色的海水
她注视着他
一直注视到死。
"The line of horizon stays more or less horizontal..."
He gazes at the gray sea and
She gazes at him
Gazes until death.


他们的头像立在一座荒凉的火炉上，
在冬天的风雪中，隐约可见
一个声音向我走来——
“孤独⋯⋯乃是万物的真谛。”
Two heads on the deserted stove,
As the winter storm looms up
A voice comes to me ——
"Loneliness...the truth about things."July 6, 98
A Postcard came from Mabou,
"Hello DoDo,
I am trying to tell you how the color of trees look when it gets dark ...
it''s better you can come and see it yourself ..."


明信片上贴着一张夕阳下他的房子和大海的照片，并且用颜料抹上一片绿色⋯⋯
Aug 10-18, 98.
in Mabou

这几天常常下雨，坐在Robert的车中看风景几乎总是模糊的，水波摆动的节奏非常缓慢；风景短暂的清晰，之后又停留在模糊中⋯⋯
这里的雨水有深层的欢悦⋯⋯
June 似乎没有年龄⋯⋯　
Robert 有鲸一样的脊背⋯⋯
几块树墩立在房前的草地上，
这是等待即将来临的地方⋯⋯
信，断断续续——它的诱惑会使人长出花朵；它的沉默会使人长出根⋯⋯
他有不同一般的颜色——灰、绿色；我第一次见到他就相信是他。
我吐出的一颗果核，清脆地落进餐盆，June惊奇地看着我说“你真野，像只动物⋯⋯”
很难看清Robert的面孔，他和风景融成一体⋯⋯
我很难轻易复信，时间与空间能够纠正人的草率⋯⋯
我肯定见他笑过，我很清楚，我又不太清楚⋯⋯
他低垂着头，坐在桌子对面，有一块长方形黑色物体正从他袖子里滑了出来⋯⋯
梦中，我看见June的侧身出现在门边，画面不断地重叠、放大、移近⋯⋯
颜色在光线消失前立起来了⋯⋯
翅膀缓缓降下，遮盖了两岸的视野——再降下，影子升起了——
我看到一只手臂像土地般伸展
上面的树枝荒草闪耀着火焰的颜色——

I said: "Waiting for mushroom."
He said: "Waiting for truth."
( I think I don''t like "waiting" for truth;
——You want to test me. )
风景的嗅觉消失了⋯⋯
R: "What have you found?"
我全神贯注地看着——
像一个病人一样地看着，天空却不知不觉地跑了⋯⋯
哦，我需要蓝色——去跟随世界的河流⋯⋯
R: "What is your root?"
D: "Memory."
曾经存在过的像一道可见的长音，记忆正是随着这道长音在渐强、渐弱⋯⋯

July 6, 98
"Hello DoDo,
I am trying to tell you how the color of trees look when it gets dark ...... it''s better you can come and see it yourself ..."
On the postcard from Mabou, Robert stuck a photo which showed his house on the sea under the setting sun,
and a patch of green was painted ...
Aug 10—18, 98. in Mabou. (words from my diary)
Rainy days. Looking out from Robert''s car, everything was blurred, The rhythm of the wipers was slow,
revealing the clear landscape only briefly. After that, everything was misty again ...
The rain here holds a deep, hidden happiness.
June seems ageless ...
Robert has a back like that of a whale ......
Some tree stumps stood on the lawn in front of the house,
this is where one awaits what is coming ...
Letter follow letters ... their temptations can make one grow flowers, the silence can make one grow roots ......
His color is unique — grey, green; when I first saw him I knew it was him.
I spat out a fruit pit, which hit the plate with a crackle sound. June looked at me in surprise and said: "You are wild, like an animal ..."
It''s difficult to see Robert''s face clearly, he and the landscape melted into one ...
It''s not easy for me to write back, time and space can rectify one''s rashness ...
I am sure I have seen him smile, I am sure and unsure ...
He sat across the table, head lowered, a black rectangular object slipped out of his sleeve ...
In a dream, I saw June''s profile emerge by the door, the image multiplying, overlapping, approaching ...
The colors stood out just before the light disappeared ...
wings moved down slowly, obscuring the vision of the river banks — as they descended further, shadows began to rise ...
I saw an arm out-stretched, like earth, on top of that,
dead branches and withered grass fluttering in the color of flickering flame ...
I said: "Waiting for mushroom."
He said: "Waiting for truth."
( I think I don''t like "waiting" for truth;
— You want to test me. )
The smell of the landscape vanished ...
—"What have you found?"
My stare fixed —
As fixed as a patient''s; but the sky ran away before I knew it ...
Oh, blue I need ... to follow the river of the world ...
—"What is your root?"
—"Memory."
That once existed was a visible long tone, with memories grew in crescendos and diminuendos ...

好东西哦，大家不要光看不顶

**079**γ**γ**