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中国餐馆--戴维.舒梅特

已有 174 次阅读2017-1-3 10:38 |个人分类:2017|系统分类:诗歌| 中国餐馆, always, family, about, 英语

一番争吵之后,我的家人总是在中国餐馆吃饭。
关于洗掉苦难的东方的一些事情。
像一条你在此休息片刻的河堤。我们进来时
主人鞠躬相迎。见过太多世面的一张脸。
一场革命。亲人们遭受的折磨。他从来
没有露出恐惧。他的妻子领着我们到我们的桌子。
她的脚步比我们的要迈得小。
小女儿给我们奉上茶水。大女儿

用娴熟的英语接受我们的点菜。每一年她的美
都比之前更精致。有时我们是唯一的一群顾客
我用筷子吃鸭子或虾子时,她远远地微笑着
晚餐之后我们坐在他们舒服的安静里。
我哥哥讲了一个笑话。我妈妈把一块餐巾叠成
鸟的形状。我姐姐掰开我们的饼干,大声阅读我们的
幸运签。我们离开时,我父亲总是和这位老人握手道别。
After an argument, my family always dined at the Chinese
restaurant. Something about the Orient washed the bitterness
away. Like a riverbank where you rest for awhile. The owner
bowed as we entered. The face of one who had seen too much.
A revolution. The torture of loved ones. Horrors he would never
reveal. His wife ushered us to our table. Her steps smaller than
ours. The younger daughter brought us tea. The older one took
our orders in perfect English. Each year her beauty was more
delicate than before. Sometimes we were the only customers
and they smiled from afar as we ate duck and shrimp with our
chopsticks. After dinner we sat in the comfort of their silence.
My brother told a joke. My mother folded a napkin into the shape
of a bird. My sister broke open our cookies and read our fortunes
aloud. As we left, my father always shook the old man’s hand.
“Chinese Restaurant” by David Shumate from The Floating Bridge. © University of Pittsburgh Press, 2008. Reprinted with permission

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