我闭了眼睛，向后一仰，靠在椅背上；捏着《初学记》的手搁在膝踝上。
I saw a good story emerging in haziness.
我在蒙胧中，看见一个好的故事。
This story was very beautiful, elegant and funny. It looked like a piece of intricate brocade woven with many beautiful people and beautiful things. Like ten thousands of darting stars, it was flying and expanding unlimitedly.
这故事很美丽，幽雅，有趣。许多美的人和美的事，错综起来象一天云锦，而且万颗奔星似的飞动着，同时又展开去，以至于无穷。
I seemed to remember that I passed through the waterway of Shanyin by a small boat. The shores were lined along with tallow trees, bluegrass, wild flowers, bamboos, bushes and dead trees. By the riverside stood the huts, the towers, farmers, village women, village girls, monks, chickens, dogs, bamboo hats and sun-bathed clothes. Overhead was the sky with floating clouds....... All these were reflected into the clear blue river. Along with each paddle strike, flickering sunlight as well as algae and fish in the water were rippling with waves. All the shadows and all the things were disbanded, but swaying, expanding and merging. As soon as they were merged, they retreated to restore the prototype. The edges were as irregular as the summer clouds trimmed with sunbeam and radiating silvery flame. These were the scenes of the river any part I passed through.
我仿佛记得曾坐小船经过山阴道，两岸边的乌桕，新禾，野花，鸡，狗，丛树和枯树，茅屋，塔，伽蓝，农夫和村妇，村女，晒着的衣裳，和尚，蓑笠，天，云，竹，……都倒影在澄碧的小河中，随着每一打桨，各各夹带了闪烁的日光，并水里的萍藻游鱼，一同荡漾。诸影诸物：无不解散，而且摇动，扩大，互相融和；刚一融和，却又退缩，复近于原形。边缘都参差如夏云头，镶着日光，发出水银色焰。凡是我所经过的河，都是如此。
The story I’ve seen so far was the same. In the water was the dome of the blue sky. All things were woven on it to fabricate an everlasting vivid and expanding story which I cannot see its end.
现在我所见的故事也如此。水中的青天的底子，一切事物统在上面交错，织成一篇，永是生动，永是展开，我看不见这一篇的结束。
A few slim safflowers under the dead willow trees on the shore should be planted by the village girls. The mirrored crimson blossoms and spotty crimson blossoms were floating in the water. Suddenly they were broken into pieces, elongated, tinting the water with streaks of rouge without halo. Hut, dogs, towers, village girls and cloud...... all were also floating. Crimson blossoms were all stretched, turning into the waving red silk belt. The belt was woven into the dogs, which were woven into the clouds. And the clouds were woven into the village girls...... At this moment, they all retreated. However, the shadows of spotty crimson blossoms were broken, scattered and stretched, ready to be woven into the towers, village girls, dogs, huts and the clouds.
河边枯柳树下的几株瘦削的一丈红，该是村女种的罢。大红花和斑红花，都在水里面浮动，忽而碎散，拉长了，缕缕的胭脂水，然而没有晕。茅屋，狗，塔，村女，云，……也都浮动着。大红花一朵朵全被拉长了，这时是泼剌奔迸的红锦带。带织入狗中，狗织入白云中，白云织入村女中……在一瞬间，他们又退缩了。但斑红花影也已碎散，伸长，就要织进塔、村女、狗、茅屋、云里去了。
The story I saw now was clear up in my mind, beautiful, elegant, interesting and distinct. On the blue sky above, there were numerous beautiful people and beautiful things. I saw them and knew them one by one.
现在我所见的故事清楚起来了，美丽，幽雅，有趣，而且分明。青天上面，有无数美的人和美的事，我一一看见，一一知道。
I was going to gaze at them......
我就要凝视他们……
When I was about to gaze at them, I was stunned suddenly. Opening my eyes, I found the brocade had been wrinkled and messy, as if ruined by a stone that someone had thrown into the river to tear up the entire shadow into pieces. I unconsciously held tight the book of 'The Beginner’s Story’ that almost fell onto the ground. A few rainbow-colored broken shadows left behind were still floating in front of me.
我正要凝视他们时，骤然一惊，睁开眼，云锦也已皱蹙，凌乱，仿佛有谁掷一块大石下河水中，水波陡然起立，将整篇的影子撕成片片了。我无意识地赶忙捏住几乎坠地的《初学记》，眼前还剩着几点虹霓色的碎影。
I truly love this good story. While broken shadow was still there, I should catch up it, accomplish it and keep it. Putting aside the book, I bowed to reach for the pen, -Oh, where has been any trace of the broken shadow, I only saw the dim light and I wasn’t in a boat.
我真爱这一篇好的故事，趁碎影还在，我要追回他，完成他，留下他。我抛了书，欠身伸手去取笔，——何尝有一丝碎影，只见昏暗的灯光，我不在小船里了。
But I always remembered seeing such a good story at a drowsy night......
但我总记得见过这一篇好的故事，在昏沉的夜……
February 24, 1925
一九二五年二月二十四日
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