I Can Almost See The Clouds of Dust: Selected Poetry of Yu Xiang

IX. Kept for Oneself

IX KEPT FOR ONESELF 126 姥爷，你快死去 我的姥爷在老家，他正在死去 去年在敬老院 他使用了一年城里的马桶 现在他拉、尿在自家的被窝 舅舅、舅妈还有他们的小女儿 在宠爱狗“宝宝”时都不忘 对着姥爷骂几句 （姥爷，反正你耳聋听不到） 他们享用着“总是惹狗上火的老头子”的退休金 一边点着老头子的钱 （省吃俭用为未曾谋面的曾外孙攒的学费） 一边说，“怎么不咬死他” 姥爷修建的结实的石房和庭院 种下的无花果树和月季 他们尽情享用着 （姥爷，他们唯独没有享用你的爱） 寒冷的冬天 他70多岁的女婿，我的父亲 这世上唯一孝顺他的人 （姥爷，你该知足） 每天要在冰凉的井水里 忍住风湿性关节炎的刺痛 涮洗他流满屎尿的衣裤和被褥 （当然，你不是故意的 姥爷，你自幼受苦） 被继母赶出家门 抗战时被鬼子捉去做饭 又在国共的枪声中捡了条命 逃至青岛，做过五金生意 127 Grandpa, You’re Going to Die my grandpa is at his old home, he is dying last year in an old folks’ home he used the city toilet for an entire year now he shits, pisses in his own quilt uncle, aunt and their daughter spoiling their beloved dog “Darling,” they do not forget scolding grandpa from time to time (grandpa, you’re deaf and can’t hear anything anyway) they enjoy the pension of an “old man who always angers the dog” counting his money (every penny saved up as school fees for great-grandchildren he has yet to meet) complaining, “why doesn’t it bite him to death” the solid stone house and courtyard grandpa built planted with fig trees and China roses they enjoy it wholeheartedly (grandpa, your love is the only thing they don’t enjoy) cold winter his son-in-law over seventy, my father the only one in this world filial to him (grandpa, you should be content) every day in icy well water enduring sharp pain of rheumatism washing his pants and bedding of shit and piss (of course, you didn’t do it on purpose grandpa, you’ve been suffering since you were young) chased out of the house by your stepmother captured to cook for the Japanese during the Sino-Japanese war then barely survived the Nationalist-Communist gunshots escaped to Qingdao, worked in hardware business 128 辗转到东北护林…… 每次回家我的姥姥都羞辱他 倾尽一个缺少性爱的女人之所能 姥爷使我亲爱的姥姥变成泼妇 而姥姥使我亲爱的姥爷在家中失去威严 （姥爷，你从未做过一个家的主人） 没有家，他只有坟墓 但这绝不是一个女人对一个男人的伤害 我的姥爷命大，有那么多条命 用了94年，怎么用也用不完 人不该有这么多的命 （姥爷，你会死的） 今年夏天我回去看他 病床上的姥爷依旧气度非凡 那时，他头脑清晰，记忆力惊人 读书看报，还关心着国事 只是不能再写日记 （姥爷，你的字有陈古的墨香 我还保留着你最后的信） 那时，他还可以下床、出门 坐在街口的石头上 过往的村民们无一不爱戴他 我的姥爷饱读古书 走南闯北，无所不知 祖上精湛的手艺，你无法把它传下去 满腹的经纶，不合时宜 在这个时代，他是仅存的英雄 供我崇拜着 他裸露的小腿布满伤疤 （那些结痂的和新鲜的是狗咬的） 如今，姥爷已不需要有人去安抚他的痛 他慢慢地糊涂着 没心没肺 129 ended up as a forest warden in the Northeast . . . each time he returned home my grandma would humiliate him doing her best as a woman who lacked sex grandpa turned my dear grandma into a shrew grandma made my dear grandpa lose his dignity at home (grandpa, you’ve never been the master of a family) without a home, he has just a tomb but certainly not that a woman can so harm a man my grandpa has had a long life, has had so many lives used up ninety-four years, still unfinished no matter what a man shouldn’t have so many lives (grandpa, you’ll die) this summer I returned to see him on his sickbed grandpa seemed as extraordinary as before at that time, a lucid mind, a prodigious memory read books and journals, still concerned about state affairs but couldn’t write in his diary anymore (grandpa, your words contain an old ink fragrance I still keep your last letter) at that time, he could still get up from bed, go out sit on a rock in the street not a passing villager did not respect and love him my grandpa read ancient literature voraciously traveled widely, knew everything ancestors’ masterly craftsmanship, you couldn’t pass it on full of knowledge, untimely in this epoch, he is the sole surviving hero for me to idolize his naked calves covered in scars (those scabs and fresh scars bitten by dogs) now, grandpa no longer needs someone to soothe his pain he’s losing his mind slowly heartless and lungless 130 他已经不认识自己的大女儿 （你看，这样多好） 我的妈妈为了送他还在胶东的小岛上挨冻 拖着多病的肉体和一颗计较的心 抱怨着他对儿女的不公 这个冬天太冷，我不能去看他 他的外甥女还在电话里与男人调情、拌嘴 不能去看他 小时候，姥爷把我搂在怀里 他唱“钩钩鸡，上草垛……” 很快，我就睡着了 我那么小，他的怀就是妈妈的怀 他那么心疼我，不让表哥欺负我 只有一次，表哥抢走了我的格子手帕 姥爷没有为我夺回来 他哄我，带我到海边的小卖部 那里所有的手帕都不是我想要的 他一直在哄我，我一直哭 我哭，不停地哭 最终他也没能把那块手帕为我要回 我至今还记得，我是怎么哭的 （姥爷，我记恨你） 记到我也糊涂的那一天 可现在，我不能去看他 我为自己找了太多不能去看他的借口： 失眠症，哮喘，还有“创伤后应激障碍” 这种新奇的病名，他肯定没有听说过 我的单位要划考勤，我不能去看他 我住的楼正在改造管道 我要守在家中，不能去看他 他还没有见过我城里的房子 他没说过要看，他知道我们生活得很好 我还在人模狗样地生活，安排着某次偷情 131 he can’t recognize his eldest daughter anymore (look, this is so nice) to send him off my mother even suffered the cold of an island in Jiaodong dragging a sickly body and a fussy heart bearing grudges against his unfairness to children this winter was too cold, I couldn’t visit him his granddaughter flirted and bickered with men over the phone couldn’t visit him when I was young, grandpa held me to his chest he sang, “hook the chick, up the haystack . . .” soon, I would fall asleep I was so young, his chest was Mother’s he loved me so much, never allowing my cousin to bully me only once, when he snatched away my plaid handkerchief grandpa didn’t snatch it back for me he cajoled me, brought me to a kiosk near the sea but none of the handkerchiefs were what I wanted he kept cajoling me, I kept crying I cried non-stop in the end he still couldn’t get that handkerchief back for me I still remember how I cried (grandpa, I held grudges against you) until the day I too lost my head but now, I can’t visit him I’ve found too many...