父亲常詠的诗 Father recites poem

父亲常詠的诗

Father recites classical poems (For English version please scroll down)

我的父亲今年是92岁。八年前，一个轻微中风使他卧床不起. 他是几乎失明的，二十年前因为一次车祸使他的左眼完全失明, 右眼是因为发现绿内障太晚现在只剩下大概不到1％的视线。

现在他只能趴在床上，他必须做出极大的挣扎才能坐起来 . 他只能勉强分辨白天或夜晚，所以经常要问我们时间。他只能依赖我们的声音来识别我们. 心理上他是没问题的，但他的反应很缓慢，它需要一些时间来意识到我们的问题. 我们仍然可以和他做普通的交谈, 他还能记得他年轻时候的事件，但他往往不能记得几个小时前吃过什么午饭.

即使失去了他的视线而且也还行動不方便，但是他并不是一个痛苦的人. 他不会自悲也不会感叹他自己的状况. 他完全接受这是他的人生，亦感谢生命授予他现在的一切. 他有3个孩子,和一个伟大的妻子现在照顾他日常的需要. 我的母亲今年是86岁，骨质疏松症使她身体虚弱, 但是她的心智依然尖锐如刀。  

我每天照顾他几乎是例行公事，虽然家里还有一个菲律宾女仆为我们做饭等家务. 他如同只是一个简单听话的孩子，只问简单的问题好像“我应该先吃点面包或先喝麦片？”. 也许他只是意图要讨好我们。

 我隔天都会给他一个乳果糖溶液和双倍剂量灌肠喝，以帮助他排便。我会修夹他的指甲，鼻孔毛和剃去阴毛和他的上嘴唇和下巴的所有短刚毛。偶尔他拒绝吃那我便要亲手喂他吃.

 每天早上，我都会和他脱下沾了尿的隔夜尿布。他都会在厕所坐上大约10分钟排便. 他会自己刷牙齿和使用的卫生纸清理自己. 然后我便用海绵和温和的肥皂彻底地和他擦洗全身,他会坐在椅子上慢慢地享受一个热水澡。

就这样我每天的工作已经算完成了吗?

不 ! 不 ! 不 ! 还是有别的东西呢…

因为没有太大外界的刺激, 于是他的心智和记忆正在慢慢削弱，并渐渐衰退. 虽然他的眼睛看不到所以不能看书了，但是他还是会时常问起关于他收藏的书籍在哪里, 他偶尔会用他的双手去触摸那些书籍来个手掌阅读….似乎他可以看到似的。

我父亲是个喜欢看书的人, 他最喜欢的诗人就是唐代著名的诗人….李白(705 – 762 AD). 他收藏的书籍中他最喜欢的经典书就是李白的唐诗三百首, 那本书经过他无数次的翻阅后都已经变的黄黄色的, 陈旧和破烂.

 因此，要挑战我父亲智力最好的办法就是请他背诵这些古典诗，这些都是在他年轻的时候靠硬硬死记死背回来的诗

加油 ! 他还记得许多诗句 ! 虽然每当他接不上去时我都会提醒他，因为他现在正在试图努力要回想起他80年来读到的东西, 也绝非易事。

 其中最有名的诗便是「静夜思」，或松散直接的翻译便是“沉思”

        静夜思

        床前明月光   

       疑是地上霜   

       举头望明月   

     低头思故乡 

 我搜索了很多英文翻译, 但是我觉得没有一个翻译能清楚地反映了这首诗的美. 我给它一些思考和作出下面的翻译，我希望它能反映李白当时的情绪，本质和他的“渴望”. 很显然，我添加写入了一些在原来诗中没有的东西, 但我认为这些显然和李白当时是相关的事物。如果中国的学者们认为这些不适合, 哪我深感遗憾, 道歉 ! 道歉。

        Contemplation

           The luminous moon hung over the bamboo blind

         Icy frost glistened on the earthly loam

        I gazed raptly at the round silvery moon

        Pining for my kith and kin far away home.

 这也是我最喜欢的诗,  是当我8岁的时候我母亲教我广东话时教我的唐诗. 虽然我是来自一个纯粹英语流教育体系的学生, 完全不懂中文.

当我每次身在海外旅游或工作时，我常常都会背诵这首诗，我好想回家跟我的父母亲在一起。

Father recites classical poems

My father is now 92 years of age. Eight years ago, a minor stroke left him bed-ridden. He is almost blind, his left eye was totally sightless some twenty years ago because of a motor vehicle accident and his right eye has probably less than 1% of sight because of late detection of glaucoma.

Now, relegated to the bed he can only sit up, often times, he has to make a Herculean effort to do so. He can barely distinguish whether it is day time or night time and often asks us the time of the day. He recognizes us by our voice and not by sight. His mental faculty is still intact, though his response is slow, and it takes some time for him to register our questions. We can still engage him in a normal conversation. He can remember his younger days but he cannot recall what he has taken for lunch a few hours ago.

Deprived of his sight and restricted severely in movement, however, he is not a bitter man. He does not indulge in self-pity nor does he laments his predicament. He just accepts that this is his life and that he is thankful for all the mercies life has shown him. He still has 3 children who are devoted to him and a great wife who takes care of his daily needs. My mother is 86, frail as osteoporosis has taken its toll but her mental faculties are still razor shape.

My daily work of caring for him is almost routine, though there is a maid to cook for us and other household chores. He is just a simple obedient child, asking simple question like, ‘Should I eat the bread first or drink the cereal?’ Probably he choose to please when we give him affirmations.

On alternate days I give him a lactulose solution and a double dose of enema to help his bowel movement. I clip his nails, trim his nostril hairs, shave his pubic hairs and all those short bristles of hairs sprouting on his upper lips and chin. Occasionally I have to feed him when he refuses to eat.

In the morning I take off his overnight diaper which is soiled with urine. In the toilet he sits for about 10 minutes for his bowel movement. He brushes his own teeth and he uses the toilet paper to wipe his rear, whether there are any defecation or not. Then I scrub him thoroughly with a sponge laden with mild soap. And he sits back and enjoy a hot bath.

So my daily work is done.

But there is something more.

With not much external stimuli, his mental awareness and memory are slowly impairing and fading away. Though cannot read anymore, he still asks the where about of his books, which he will occasionally feel them with his hands, as if he can read them by going through it with his palms.

My father is a keen reader of the works of the famous poet of the Tang Dynasty, Li Bai (705 – 762 AD). His favorite classical book, the Three Hundred Tang Poems (唐诗三百首)which is yellowish, well worn, tattered and thumbed-through by many readings. This book is a compilation of poems of some of the most acclaimed poets during the Tang era, where Li Bai was featured prominently.

So the best way to challenge my father’s mental faculty is to ask him to recite some of these poems, which he had memorized by rote during his younger days.

Bravo! He can still remember many verses, though I have to prompt him whenever he falters as he tries hard to recall what he had read about 80 years back.

One of the most famous poem is 静夜思,or loosely translated to be ‘Contemplation’, by Li Bai. This short poem is well recited by almost all Chinese educated children and it remains one of the most favorite poetry for recital at school events.

             静夜思

            床前明月光   

            疑是地上霜   

           举头望明月   

          低头思故乡 

 I search through a lot of English translation and there is none that I feel reflects the beauty of this poem clearly. I give it some thought and come out with the following translation which I hope it reflects the mood, essence and the ‘longings’ of the poet when Li Bai penned it. Clearly, I take some liberty to put in something which is not in the original Chinese poem and which I think is relevant to the time and place when it was written.  If some Chinese scholars think otherwise, then, I offer my apology.

           Contemplation

                   The luminous moon hung over the bamboo blind

                  Icy frost glistened on the earthly loam

                  I gazed raptly at the round silvery moon

                 Pining for my kith and kin far away home.

 This is also my favorite poem which my mother taught me in Cantonese, the prevalent dialect in Southern China, when I was 8, though I came from a purely English stream.

 When I travel far and wide, I often recite this poem and I want to go home to be with my parents.