Fan Jinghua: Her in a Scenery

　　　Her in a Scenery

In her lively forties, thinking of mountains and rivers,
She likes old bridges, where she leans and waits,
Sporty with a knapsack, a tripod and a plastic raincoat,
For the clearing and fading of the faint cries of southbound geese.

She visits only the most-trodden lines, for lack of company and safety.
With no one to pester and entertain her with distracting words,
All the others thinning out as unwanted noises on the view-finder,
She finds the strange landscape more familiar than acquaintances.

Many years ago when no beds were available on a mountaintop hostel,
They had to squat by a canteen wall for the sunrise-watching eve.
That was how they lose each other, when another’s camera frolicly fell into a valley.
Man, cherish the luck that fell to your hands! This happens once in a life.

It is a cruel lot that he who enjoys her as a scenery will never enjoy her everyday.
The tripod cannot be opened in crowded sites and put into use,
And the glad helps usually do not do her justice. A less spectacular sight,
If not a mere escape, is no better than big-head shots from her mobile phone.
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　September 25, 2008 morning

　　　景中人
四十多岁的活泼，想着山、想着水，
可她喜欢的是那种可以依靠、可以等待的古桥，
背着运动背包、三脚架、塑料雨衣，
站在南飞的雁声中，看天空越发寥朗。

她游览的都是踩得最平的路线，因为没有游伴、更为安全。
没有人纠缠或者逗趣，听到的话都不是干扰，
所有的人都是他人，在取景框中虚化成令人烦的噪音，
而她看到的陌生风景比认识的人更加亲切。

多年之前，山顶上的旅舍没有足够的床铺，
他们在观看日出的前夜在一家餐厅的墙边蹲了一夜。
他们就这样失去了彼此，因为另一个人的相机嬉笑着掉进了深谷。
兄弟，珍惜掉进你手中的运气！这样的事，一辈子只有一次。

视她为风景的人，永远不得亲见她的日常。残酷的天意。
三脚架无法在拥挤的人群中撑开，
乐于帮助的手往往无法抓住她的神韵。
太稀松平常的风景，除了是一种逃避之外，还不如手机上的大头贴。
　　　　　　　　　　　2008年9月29日 改写自25日上午的英文原诗