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主题 : 法国诗人描写今天的上海 |《中外笔会》 Vol.30
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法国诗人描写今天的上海 |《中外笔会》 Vol.30

https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/bbpQMSGx-oifY4vZ8KP9Ow


目录

CHINESE AND FOREIGN PEN CTALOGIUE



1、(法国)尼古拉斯•克托维奇的诗

      (France) Poem of Nicolas Kurtovitch

2、 (日本)赵晴的诗

      (Japanese)Poem of Zhao Qing

3、 (中国台湾)陈黎的诗

      (Taiwan China)Poem of Chen Li

4、 (美国)徐英才的诗

      (Amercia)Poem of Xu Yingcai

5、 (美国)邓嗣禹的散文

      (Amercia)Essay of Deng Siyu

本期美术:程庸






作者介绍:

尼古拉斯·克托维奇,法国诗人、作家,已出版诗集、小说十多种:《保护阴影》、《坐船》、《朋友》、《时间》、长诗《致爱人,献给上海的散文诗》等,获得法语文学奖等多种奖项。曾为西班牙、中国等多国文学营驻会作家。

Love of the people

Haïbun of Shanghai(Excerpt)

Nicolas Kurtovitch





In the early morning I sit on the terrace and drink a glass of water

at noon I walk in the shade of the lime trees of Lu Xun Park

nothing is waiting for me outside or inside if not the cheeky bird

a few words exchanged with a passer-by we continue on our way

men and women are individual shadows

through the opening in the glass wall they stand at my sight

the grey of the sky fell on everything that moves

there, outside it’s my turn to go and mix my shadow with others





Here neither we do not remember

great builders of walls

the names of women in the kitchen

wherever I look at Barcelona or Xi'an cathedrals palaces etcetera I see unnamed workers

where are the brave stout men who piled up

stones and breaths make walls and castles





How are they tied up from one building to another

and smells and promiscuity

the elders experienced the bamboo forests

modern men do not imagine

brown or white cement, glass towers instead of wood

it's unbearable

blocked in the east, the horizon stuck to the west, even in the sky

crammed how do they cope but how do they cope



We are under the protection of Jing An

nothing will happen to us, it shines with all its gold

at night nothing better, empty your glass

look at the street and the Jing An taking it easy



We moved away a few steps

the ferry disappeared the friends in its trail

have left us their affection

no smoke escapes from the thickets

the empty huts shelter for the night

the shadow of my memories

all this water flowing like rain to the river

the river goes to the sea the sea will grow

the sea has grown touching your window in the kitchen

from there filling up the house then your heart, with bliss and beauty





致爱人

写给上海的散文诗(长诗选载)

尼古拉斯•克托维奇







清晨,我坐在阳台上喝着一杯水,

正午我走在鲁迅公园的棕榈树阴下,

除了调皮的小鸟,里里外外都没有谁在等我,

我一边走路一边和路人三言两语地交谈,

男人和女人有相对独立的影子,

透过玻璃墙的洞口,他们出现在我的视线里。

灰色的天空坠落在每一个移动的物体上,

在那儿,轮到我去外面把我的影子和其他人混在一起。



没有人能够记住,

那些伟大的城墙建造者,

和厨房里的女人们的名字,

不管是看到巴塞罗那还是西安的无神论者宫殿,

我都能见到无名的工匠。

那些健壮的人堆积在哪里?

石头和呼吸筑成了围墙和城堡。



他们是如何连接一座又一座大楼?

气味混杂,

老人们经历了竹林,

现代人难以想象,

棕色或白色的水泥,玻璃塔代替了木头,

这真令人难以忍受,

封锁在东边的地平线,坚持着向西,甚至蔓延到了天边,

我满脑子里都在想,他们是如何克服如何应对的。



我们在静安的保护之下,

任何事情都不会发生在我们身上,

因为它四周散发着金光。

晚上的景色更加无与伦比,它照亮了你的眼镜。

看看街道和静安,

别着急。



我们走了几步路,

轮渡消失了,朋友们也在它的踪迹中不见了踪影,

给我们留下了他们的爱。

灌木丛中没有烟气溢出,

在空荡荡的茅屋中过夜,

我的记忆力一片空白,

所有的水流像雨水一样汇集到河里,

河水流到海里,海水会增加,

海水满溢,直到触碰到厨房的窗棂,

从那座房子到你的内心,充满了幸福和美丽。





古建筑(国画·局部)l 程庸




作者介绍:

赵晴,翻译家、旅日诗人。出版物有译著、诗集等多部,亦写散文、随笔。执笔活动的同时,也在大学任教。个人诗集《你和我(赵晴诗选)》(上海教育出版社)出展2016年"书香上海"上海图书博览会。译著:《耶律楚材》(陳舜臣)(广西师范大学出版社)、《随缘护花》(陳舜臣)(中国画报社)、《近代城市公园史一欧化的源流》(北京新星出版社)(监修校译)。







赵晴





坐在船里

让自己藏在波光之外

船檐

投下了一道懒散的影

把我包裹于其中



船夫唱着小曲儿

独特的调子

又似曾相识

高亢的

却苍凉

声声叫人隐隐作疼

引得舟上众人或大声叫好

或感怀拭泪



岸上的红枫

当真似火

我只凝神对着它看

入定般地沉默

心中

却跟着那小曲儿唱



略有微风

竟吹落了几片红叶

落在水上点点

倒是更添了风情



船上的掌声、喝采声、欢呼声、抽泣声越来越响

小曲儿听不太清了

只钻到我心里咿咿呀呀地唱



我望着船外

沉默

不作声



你怎么知道?

我不作声

就是

真的无动于衷……





Autumn

Tr. by Rumme Paul





Boarding a ship 

Glittering light on the waves keeping to itself

Under the eaves

Listless shadows are falling

Enveloping me



Boatmen are singing out songs

Peculiar melodies

Previous memory vaguely recalls

Ringing out

Reverberating dimly

Spreading painfully through the chest

Passengers cheering excitedly

Some of them shedding tears



Maple leaves on the shore

As if on fire

I gaze on them with tensed breath

Forlornly sinking into silence

Chanting chasing the vibrato

In my chest



A gentle breeze blows

Autumn colors flutter down

Scattering on the surface of the water

Adding



Applause and acclaim and cheering and sobbing increase

The boatmen’s song cannot be heard

The melody permeating the breast spreads throughout the body



I continue to gaze at the outer scenery

As before without letting out a cry

Remaining in silence



The undulating in this heart rises

The passions dance  

At this moment again

It is hardly necessary to mention it

By the time it is spoken it is no longer there.



(英訳:RUMME PAUL 椙山女学園大学 准教授 )



秋                                                                                                          

日訳:李香善





船に乗り込み

波光外に自分を秘める

船の軒下

だらけた日陰が落とされ

私を包む



船頭が歌を唄い出す

特有な調べ

曾ての記憶にあったかのようだ

高らかで

蒼然たる響き

胸に鳴り渡って痛い

歓声を上げる乗客

泪を拭く者もいる



岸辺の楓葉

火の如く燃えている

私は息を凝らして見入り

寂然と黙り込む

胸の中

小節を追う



そよ風が吹く

紅葉が舞い落ち

水上に散らばる

趣が一層添える



拍手と喝采と歓声と啜り泣きが増す

船頭の唄はもう聞こえない

胸に浸み込んだ調べが体に広がる



私は船外の風景を眺め続ける

依然と声を立てず

沈黙のまま



この胸中にうねりが高まり

感動が弾き踊っているのだと

今更

もう言うまではないだろう

(日訳:李香善 大学教師)







作者介绍:

陈黎,1954年生,台湾师大英语系毕业。著有诗集《蓝色一百击》、《小宇宙》,散文集《想像花莲》,音乐评介集《世界的声音》等二十余种。曾获吴三连文艺奖,时报文学奖推荐奖、叙事诗首奖、新诗首奖,联合报文学奖新诗首奖,台湾文学奖新诗金典奖,梁实秋文学奖翻译奖等。与张芬龄合译有《万物静默如谜:辛波斯卡诗选》《聂鲁达:二十首情诗和一首绝望的歌》《白石上的黑石:巴列霍诗选》《但愿呼我的名为旅人:松尾芭蕉俳句300》《这世界如露水般短暂:小林一茶俳句300》等二十余种。2005年获选“台湾当代十大诗人”。2012年获邀代表台湾参加伦敦奥林匹克诗歌节。2014年受邀参加美国爱荷华大学“国际写作计划”。


香客                                                                                                      

陈黎





你没有依约到来

只派遣一阵风,在黄昏

把似乎是你润发精的

气味吹来。我分辨不出

是什么品牌。或者根本

不是润发精,而是你的

香水味,从颈部,腋下

脐上,或胸间……

天逐渐黑了。我立在

教堂墙壁清水板面前

多希望自己是某个秘密

教派的信徒,而你是

圣者,藉暗香传教





力学





虽然是夜间学园

他们还是让我们这些

补修物理学概论的高年级

学童,在休息时间

到教室外思考力学实验

将近三十年,我像一颗球

朝你的天空飞去

为什么从未坠入、消失于

你身后虚无的太虚,即使

我是顽固的虚无主义者

秋千下,我感谢你允许

我的浪荡,一次次把你从

失望的地平线荡向

短暂的高潮。一牛顿的

渴望,和一牛顿的忧伤

击向你,何者较重或痛?

我依然是一个在课堂上

不太专心的学习者

我们从跷跷板上站起来

我看到一端摆着我

上课时想到的几个暗喻

另一端,则是满天星斗



Pilgrim                                                                                                  

Chen Li

Tr. by Chang Fen-ling





You didn’t come as you’d promised.

You simply sent a breeze at sunset

to blow to me what smelled like

your shampoo. I failed to tell

its brand. Or maybe it was not

shampoo at all, but the smell of

your perfume, given forth from your neck,

armpits, navel, or breasts...

It was getting dark. Standing

in front of the exposed concrete wall of the church,

how I wished myself to be a follower of some

secret religious sect, and you

a saint, preaching via hidden aroma.





Mechanics





Even on the night campus,

they allow us, senior schoolchildren

retaking the course of introduction to physics,

to ponder on mechanics experiments

outside the classroom at the break.

For nearly thirty years, I’ve been flying

toward your sky like a ball.

How come I’ve never fallen and vanished

in the void universe behind you, even though

I’m an obstinate nihilist.

Under the swing, I’m grateful for your

tolerating my dissoluteness, which has swung you

from the horizon of disappointment to

a transient climax. Which is heavier

or hurts you more, a newton of

longing or a newton of sorrow?

I’m still a learner who is

not very attentive in class.

When we stand up from the seesaw,

I see that placed on one end are

the few metaphors which occur to me in class,

and on the other, the starry sky.








作者介绍:

徐英才,原复旦英语教师,现美国德宝大学汉学老师,华人诗学会会长,汉英双语纸质诗刊《诗殿堂》总编,汉英译著《英译唐宋八大家散文精选》和《英译中国经典散文选》曾由中国赠送美国林肯中学。

离乡

徐英才





离乡那条路

是一道纤绳

这头背在我肩上

那头 拴着我童年的全部

无论我走到哪儿

它都拽着我

走得越远

肩头越重



你我虽各在两头

却从未分开过

我携着你的积淀

你牵着我的乡愁

那纤绳上荡漾的

是生命交响的节奏





Leaving Hometown

By  Xu Yingcai





The road that takes me away from my hometown

Is a tow rope

This end strapped on my shoulder

The other tied to my childhood

Wherever I go

It clings

And the farther I go

The heavier my shoulder feels



Although at different ends

We are never separated

I carry what you’ve rooted in me

And by my nostalgia you seize me

What makes the rope vibrate

Is a jointly performed symphony of life








作者介绍:

邓嗣禹,哈佛大学历史学博士,留美著名历史学家,早年毕业于燕京大学,本科毕业论文《中国考试制度史》是研究中国古代科举制度的奠基之作。后留学美国哈佛大学,师从美国汉学研究的奠基人费正清,毕业后先后在芝加哥大学、哈佛大学、印第安纳大学任教。曾与费正清合作著述多种,在美国汉学界颇具影响。随着近年来与美国学界交往日趋密切,国内对于民国学人和留美学人日趋重视,邓嗣禹的学术贡献以及他与美国汉界的交往也逐渐得到人们的关注。



美国房东太太的面孔

邓嗣禹

彭靖  英文翻译





1937年夏天,小方把老王从车站上接下来,把人跟行李都领进了他自己的车中后,就开始去找住处。经过几条小胡同,在一个住宅区的起始处,看见一家窗户上挂着“吉房招租”的小牌子。小方试着问“多少钱?”“五块半”。“五块好不好?”“可以”。

于是,不假思索,他就把行李抬放到房里去。不等息汗,小方又把老王带去吃饭。那天正好是一个礼拜天,小方夫妇无事,借此招待他的老朋友。带他去看美国的国会大厅、养花园,及一部分博物院建筑。而后又请他在车站旁边的中国饭店吃了一顿晚餐,表示欢迎。饭后,还到车站附近,五光时色的喷水池旁边溜一溜,主客之间都觉得差不多了,小方又把老王送回寓所,道声再见,告辞而去。

三四天的火车生活,老王早就有点昏迷糊涂。这一天,小方夫妇领他到各处游玩。对他来说,不但是乡下人进了美国的京城,而且还像是刘姥姥初入大观园,为高楼大厦中的人事和机器并动,以及为涂满口红跟着无线电音乐而摇动的,女招待漂亮而客气的话语所迷惑,简直是像在梦里。回到房间里,正要解衣就寝,忽然听见有人敲门。

不等你回话,一个五十岁上下,戴小眼镜的太太便行进而来了。她把眼睛从镜框上看了老王一眼,便带着考试性的语气发问:

“你是中国人,还是日本人?”

老王回答说:“我是中国人。”

“你会说英语吗?”

“我会说一点儿。”

“你要是在我这里住,一点儿英文可不行。”

“那么,也许比一点儿多一点。因为我的职务,是来帮助国会图书馆编纂一点东西,如果英文太不行,我就不可能担任这项职务。”——老王回答的话语中,也就稍稍见出不客气的语调。

房东太太听见老王这样说,把眼睛闪了一下,翻开白眼,半信半疑的说:

“喂—啰—,你的英文马马虎虎还可以应付。可是我告诉你,你要是想在我这里长住,这里的规矩要遵守:你走路要轻一点,因为你们中国人总是大声阔步在楼上走动;说话声音要小一点,困为你们中国人总是爱大谈大闹;出门时记得关灯、关窗户,因为你们中国人不管在家或者不在家,总是把窗户敞开,电灯扭开;你的房间总要保持整洁,因在你们中国人的房子总是污脏不堪,乱七八糟。你每晚什么时候睡觉?”

“差不多十点左右就寝。”老王又累又气的说。

“甚至十点钟,我还嫌晚了。我们美国人好人家,总是早睡早起。”

老王听到这里,忽然打了一个呵欠,房东太太似乎也稍稍理会到这个暗示,因此用下面的话语结束了考问:“我还有好些事要告诉你,可惜今天晚了,太费电,我不说了。我简单地告诉你,若是你要在我这里久住,你一定上要遵守我的规矩;不然,我欢迎你出门比欢迎你来的机会要更多。晚安!”好容易门一关,房东太太走了。

睡在床上,本来已经长途跋涉疲乏不堪的身体,受了这一番晴天霹雳,无妄之灾的教训与辱骂,老王的神经不免有些兴奋,要失眠了。他想在美国的美国人,跟他在教会学校里认识的美国人,真是不大一样,与电影里见到所见到的美国人,就更不相同。他又想到好些中国人,以为一到美国如登天堂,而他在天堂里的享受,如第一个房东太太的面孔,就使他够受!他想若是在国内,如果房东太太对他这个态度,他早就跟她对骂一场,把行李搬走,即使是住在街头过夜也不在意。如今可要训练训练自己神经的忍耐性啦……

睁开眼睛时,天已明亮,记得房东太太早睡早起的教训,虽然未能睡够,身体还觉得极端困累,也勉强起来。穿上袿子,不敢穿皮鞋,在房屋里偷偷摸摸的走来走去,免得房东太太说中国人,爱大声阔步在楼上走动。好在地板上有一块破地毯,不会把袜子弄脏。过了一会儿,他又偷偷摸摸的在房外的洗脸间洗了一个脸,把大理石做的洗脸盆,洗得干干净净。

洗完脸后,就照例整理床铺。床铺宽得像四方形的讲演台,来去得绕一个大圈。好容易把洗过几百次的棉毯子拉得齐齐清楚了,却始终不能把被单弄好。我记得,昨晚的床,铺的非常整齐,床上的被单一点皱纹也没有。在放枕头的地方,还好像美国有些男人烫头发似的,有一个大波纹。他想复原,用尽平生的气力与智慧,总不能把被单铺得像昨晚一样。把左边摆整齐清楚,右边又乱了;把脚头弄好了,另外一头又弄不好。弄得他又气又累,率性坐下,想完全放弃努力,不再管它。等一儿,怕房东太太骂中国人的房里总是乱七八糟,他又去铺。如此跑来跑去,真跑得精疲力尽,不知不觉,脚步也重了起来。

忽然有人敲门,这声音把老王吓坏了。他想准是房东太太又带来一篓子空话,开始谈判了,这外交真不好办。

他赶紧穿鞋整衣,敲门之声却甚急,来不及系鞋带,便把门打开,行了一个九十度的鞠躬,预备说十次“对不起”。

那知道敲门的并不是房东太太,而是他的朋友小方,到这里准备带老王去吃早点,然后同他上公事房和管事方面接接头。小方看见老王慌张狼狈的样子,有点莫明其妙。

小方说:“你昨晚作了什么公事,现在八点多钟就上班了,还没穿好衣服?”

老王呆呆地说:“老早就起来了,只因铺这鬼床,弄了半天也铺不好,真得重新学习,或者赶快结婚!”

小方听见说铺床,便哈哈大笑起来。老王看见小方大笑,又记得房东太太的约法三章,赶紧用手捂住小方的嘴,用嘶小而急促的声音询问:

“小方,为什么大笑?”

“老王,你为什么捂住我的嘴?”

“因为早上,规矩不能大笑,房东说的”

“我发笑,是因为你这个乡下人,要替房东太太铺被。铺被扫地 ,这是房东太太的事!她用一条长尺,几下便把被单弄清楚;用一个扫地的机器,几下便把地板弄干净了。这不用你劳神的!”

老王说:“我哪里知道这些事。那一位,我真有点怕。昨天她教训了我好多话!”

于是,老王赶急整衣,一面走,一面把房东太太昨晚给他的教训,一一告知小方。在国会图书馆做了一天的事以后,老王又告知别的中国同事,说他的房东太太特别厉害,请他们不要去找他。其实,在美国住久了的中国人,有些人有汽车,一个家,或者一两个“甜心”,下班以后,各人照例是自奔前程,寻求乐趣。如果不是老朋友,就是请他们去,他们也不会登门拜侯的。

老王下班以后,吃了饭闲着没事,就在大街上溜达溜达,抬起头来东张西望的看着高楼大厦。这个独行蹻蹻凄凉的怪样子,美国街上的车夫一望,立刻知道是一个外来人,猪头三,于是大声在他后面嚷:“看风景吗?五块钱看华盛顿的风景吗?”老王不高兴这种招呼,只能快快地走去,拐了几个弯,便把道路迷失了,走不回来了。末了是花了一毛五分钱,叫辆街车,可是一转弯却到了家。

回到住处,老王在房间里想写一封信,报告平安。忽然又有人叫门,这次老王不慌不忙,以为一定是他的朋友找他出去玩了。开开门一看,到是房东太太。她这次换了一身黑衣服,更显出十足的寡妇老婆子气。在感觉上仿佛还拿了个扫帚,不是用来扫地,是用来飞行的。

“密斯特,你怎么念你的名子?你为什么不对我说‘早安’,就出来了?晚上回来,也不对我说‘晚安’!我们家里只有一个女儿,今年十四岁,上高中。你住在这里,应该早晚对我请安,像一家人一样。”

老王听见这些话,有点受宠若惊的样子,这让房东注意到了。接下来的话,可并不让他开心。

“不过”,房东太太接着说:“你今天早上未洗脸盆”。老王现在胆子大一点了,提出抗议说:“我洗过!我用手洗得干干净净的!”房东太太不耐烦地说:“我说洗脸盆,是指洗过脸之后,用手巾把面盆擦干净,这是我们的规律。今早你洗过脸后,脸盆台上满都是水,那算洗过了么?以后你要在我这里住,就该听我的话,不要狡辩,这不是在开辩论会。晚安!”她不耐烦地把门“碰”的一关,走了。

老王待在房中心想:“你这个老婆子,终有一天骑着扫帚把飞出去,飞到罗马尼亚哪儿掉下来,把你烧死!”

老王住了两三天,白天上班,晚上回来,筋疲力尽,无书看,无朋友聊天,城市街道又不熟悉,不敢出去乱跑。在房里蹑手蹑脚走几步,还怕打扰到骑扫帚的那一位上楼训话。到后来,率性关上电灯,在椅子上闷坐,让一颗心摇摇荡荡地飘向祖国,想家,想国内的事战。想在战事下种种死亡与破坏;左想右想,越觉得无聊,只好早早上床睡觉,静听窗外秋风刮下来的树叶声,计算着未来的星期天。

过了几天,老王着凉了,咳嗽流鼻涕,每天要用半打手巾。放工回来时,又多了一回洗手绢的工作。

在平常,日作夜思,还可以对付。礼拜天,倍感度日如年。在大街上走走,抬头四望,街上人照例还是追着,叫你跟他去看风景。在房里,往窗户外面看,一面是静悄悄的街道,堆满落叶、废纸与汽车;另一面是一个小院子,有一只大狗经常出入,像是有什么心事。有一天,忽然有一位年纪轻轻的女孩,在院子中跟狗打玩,两面似乎都玩的越来越进步。那女孩一会儿把狗抱着,差不多要接吻的样子。一会儿又骑在狗的身上,似得意,也似失意,无计消愁的样子。老王望着这幅异国情调的小图景不免出神。小姑娘发现有人在看他,或窥破她的秘密,不好意思的溜了。那只狗先还是在门旁进出,到后来也失踪了。

礼拜一大早,房东太太在洗脸台上出示了一张文告,大意是:“洗脸台只为洗脸之用,不准洗衣服。”晚上, 老王去给她请安时解释说“一切的衣服,他都是送到外边洗。只有手巾,为了卫生起见,须自己洗。”房东太太很肯定地说“手巾也不能在洗脸的地方洗。实在要洗,只好到地窖洗衣间去洗。每个礼拜准允你洗一次,这就是礼拜四早上。”老王说:“这不成。因重伤风,一天要好些手巾,隔一天去洗一次如何?”房东说:“那不行。”老王接着问“礼拜四早上要办公,晚上去洗如何?”她说“也不行。”而且说“你们中国人老是爱争论,毫无道理。”老王的要求都未能办到,面子上有点难堪。末了,还是那个先是和狗玩,后来又和他玩的房东太太的女儿,却插了嘴“呵,妈妈 !”这句感叹词的意思,好像是表示抗议,觉得妈妈对这个中国人太刻薄了。

老王忍耐了半天,后来托朋友找房子,不久就搬住到国际公寓。虽然离国会图书馆很远,也管不着了。

搬家时,房东太太惊讶地说:“你这个中国人还不坏,住得很好,为什么要搬走?”

“为什么?”这不是在开辩论会。他于是笑笑,不说什么,掉过头去。让房东太太一脸猜不着的边的难堪。

东西搬出后,老王忘记将钥匙还回。第二天他同一个朋友去还钥匙时,房东太太不在家,房东小姐紧紧地握住老王的手:“呵,王,你是一个好人,怎么不同我们同住了?”在有依依不舍之状。老王想起那条狗一身绒绒的毛,不免有点不舒服。

国际公寓的房东,是从前一个外交家的太太,在欧州住过好多年,会说德、法文,虽是徐娘半老,然笑容满面,令人感觉愉快。可是这个女人虽然和那个房东太太大不相同,可是也有令人够受之处。她对人即有几种面孔:对付英法德人,她是崇拜亲热的面孔;对南美洲人,她是邀好牢笼的面孔;对付日本人,她是和乐欢佩的面孔;对中国与菲律宾人呢,却是假冒慈善,极力敷衍的面孔。怜悯中国人被日本人欺压,好像随时要流泪,使中国人反而觉得难受。一见到日本人,那种恭维钦佩的样子,要使中国难受。日本大使派御厨到国际公寓来做饭,给公寓的指导者——不叫房东太太——与其他的房客进食;可是中国的大使馆却开着门办公,凉台上晒了一此丝袜,偶而一次茶点,也从不愿意请国际公寓的指导者去参加。这自然也影响到老王住下来的待遇,尤其是抽象的礼貌。

在华盛顿做了一年事,老王去哈佛大学了。头一回住在一个教授家里,白天替他做研究,早上及黄昏皆去找房子,使他利用这些机会,认识了更多的美国房东太太的面孔。

他在大学管宿舍的地方,拿到一张民房招租的单子,知道某处有房招租,到哪里后,又看到明白房外有招租的牌子,然后去问。即使如此,房东太太还会会生气,或装作生气的样子说:“房子不租给中国人,你为什么要打扰我?”当你去问房的时候,不管天气是怎样炎热,衣服一定要穿得得体,头发要梳得清楚,下巴要刮的光滑,以便给房东太太一个好印象。按电铃后,你先要和气低声说:“对不起”,然后才入正题:“您有房子要出租吗?我想看看。”

有的房东太太老的快要木了,走路也走不动,慢慢地开门,气喘喘的说:“你要干什么?”听说要租房,她明白来意后,对你从头至脚仔细检查一番,然后慢吞吞地说“没有”。这时你也得说“谢谢”,鞠躬如仪而退。

有的房东太太一开门,看见你是黄脸人,就大不高兴,急忙找一个理由来搪塞,说:“我们的房子刚才租出去了。”客气的人,加上一句“对不起”的话。不客气的呢?说完这句话,就把门即刻开上了。有的房东太太会说:“我的房子对你太小了”,他不知道你正在找一个小房间。也有人说:“我的房子对你太大了”。她不知道,你也许正在找一个大房间,跟另外一个人同住。还有一种太太,迎头即问你中中国人、日本人,还是菲律宾人。你如果说是中国人,她又有其它话说。也有有经验的找房者,只说他是东方人。美国的房东太太有时就会不客气地说:“我们的房子,不租出任何东方人。”劈拍一下,把门关上完事。

这种代表美国某种文化的鲁莽房主,老王在剑桥(坎布里奇)碰见过,在芝加哥也碰见过。留下一堆印象,与在办公室得到的印象完全相反。

也有一种比较老实的女人,看见你是一个不受欢迎的中国人,不知道如何挡驾,赶紧自己打了一个圆场,手足无措,哑哑地回答说:“这件事要等我先生回来,我同他商量,然后再答复你。”总之,1938年老王在剑桥足足花了一个礼拜的工夫,才找到一间房子。看各种房东太太的答案,好像智力测验。聪明的人回答快一点,漂亮一点,使还没有找到房的人不觉得十分难堪;愚蠢的人回答得慢一点,笨一点,并且还会使你一生忘不了,她们那一幅冷酷的面孔。

但是,也有的房东非常客气,一见到中国人,就要把他抱起来的样子。不过为着房子太小、太热或太乱,实在无法承租,不得不放弃;也有的房东请看房子者进来坐一坐,喝一杯咖啡,甚至吃一顿饭,虽然房子没有租着,但会使你非常高兴,竟愿意和她交朋友,且仿佛已经做了朋友。

过了三四年,老王在一切问题上,都算是“老美国”了。他在芝加哥找房子,房东对他很客气,他也要问个为什么。其答案多半是十几年前,有个中国人住在她家里,那个中国人非常用功、安静、爱清洁,跟她的儿女都很好,常请她们吃饭,等等。所以,以后很愿意跟中国人做朋友,租房给中国人住。凡是说“我不租给中国人的”,老王也要问个为什么。理由却多半是二三十年前,当时还是一个少奶奶的时候,有一个中国人住在她家里,爱闹爱跟女人开玩笑,朋友川流不息,白天睡觉,晚上念书打字,不关电灯,不关窗户,房子里永远是堆的乱七八糟,收拾不清楚。从此以后,她们家一看到中国人就害怕,共同发誓永远不租房给中国人。

有一个房东,对于中国人非常不客气,按电铃时她反而走上楼去。老王再三按电铃叫她出来,她说:“我不高兴你们中国人。”老王大为生气,说道:“你受过大学教育没有?”她说:“我只有高中毕业。”老王说:“难怪你眼光这样狭窄。”她便说:“不光我眼光狭窄。十余年前,有一位中国官员住在我们家里,白天学生来拜访他的,川流不息、高谈阔论,使我们家大人小孩都不安宁。晚上,他有二个美国女朋友,差不多轮流来找他,待到早上四五点钟还不走。房里四五盏电灯,照得满屋辉煌。喝酒唱歌,闹的我们的邻居也不安宁。他还终日在我们屋前屋后,评长论短。从此以后,我们一见到中国人找房,就要退避三舍。”

从此老王知道,中国人看每一个美国人都是百万富翁(以美金计算),美国人看每一个中国都是大使。如果一个大使给美国人好印象,所有中国人便都是好人;若是有一个人给他们坏印象,所有中国人便都是坏人。这个逻辑的发展,不免使他为中美友谊有一点担心。因为驻美大使不能每一位都是可爱可敬的。倘若中美还需要一点友谊,中美双方在相互理解方面,都需要好好注意、好好认识。这要比商约、借款、援助等方面,远重要的多。

在战前与战后,美国房子的确短少。房东太太的面孔又当别论。以前的招租板子不见了,在管理房产的地方,有时连房子“有,没有”两个字都不愿意回答。因为问房子的人太多了,不胜其烦。一个中国人要想解决住房问题,自然是件麻烦的事。

在这种种困难的情况下,中国人机会好的,也可以租到好房。机会不好的,也不至于露宿街头。老王花了三年工夫,找到一个可以住家眷的房子,但也有人在几个礼拜内,就找到有几间屋的房子。这里的变化不大像在中国,或者说美国人还没有对于中国人有普遍而深刻的理解。目前只是中国在和日本作战,如果中国与美国并肩作战,一定会有不少美国房东太太,她们的儿子被派到远东地区作战,就明白了中国在和日本作战,是为了能够拖住日本的“脚”,为整个世界二次大战做贡献。中国人已经做了种种努力,中国虽然吃了败仗,可还是不曾投降。

找房子如同找太太或者是找丈夫。有时踏破铁鞋无处觅,有时得来全不费功夫。不过无论是找何处的房子,最好说话的还房东的女儿。一个国家办外交的人,就能理解这件事也和外交有关。出国学生受训时,且能注意到这类切身利益问题。如此一来,一切情形也许便会有许多不同。

中国学生喜欢逗趣,同学爱问你的LLD好!LLD者,非法律博士之称谓,乃指房东太太之女儿也。房东太太冷酷的面孔,常与LLD的热情面孔相抵销。故留学生回国以后,往往对美国表示特别好感,忘记了一切坏印象。如果要他追忆一下坏印象时,也不大会提到房东太太的冷酷的面孔上面去,或许LLD也是维持好感的原因之一吧。但是关于这件事,自然也就成为一个小小的悲剧插曲。好感过多,便把中国人应当记住的坏印象,常常忘记了。





The American Landladies

Deng Siyu

Tr. by Jing Peng



A summer day in 1937, Mr. Wang met his old friend Mr. Fang at the train station. After the two packed up the car, they drove off. A zigzag drive took them through some long winding alleyways, before a signboard caught their eyes. He saw a window hanging "auspicious room for rent" small sign. Mr. Wang needed a place to live and here came a room for rent.

“How much? ” asked Mr. Fang,“Five and half dollars”,“Five we will take it”,“ Yes, deal.”

They got the room. They unloaded the car and moved the luggage in. With no time to catch a breath, they went off for lunch. It was Sunday, Mr. Fang and his wife decided to give their old friend a treat. They took Mr. Wang on a tour around the town – the Capitol, the botanical garden, and a few museums. After they had dinner at a Chinese restaurant, they took a stroll to see the neon-lit water fountain near the train station, there they bid goodbye and departed.

After four days spent on the train, Mr. Wang badly needed to catch up some sleep. It was a rather tiring day, after a full day of activities. Mr. Wang felt like a country fellow led into the emperor’s palace, a poor man blundered into a lord’s estate. Though he could hardly remember everything he saw, the tall buildings, streetful of automobiles, the crimson-lipped waitresses’ professional politeness, and their graceful moves to the beats of radio music left a good impression on him. Life began to resemble a dream, he thought. Just when he was about to undress, he heard knocking at the door.

Before he could reach it, a mid-aged bespectacled woman, who was also the housekeeper, already stood in front of him. She was apparently in her fifties with vigilant eyes. Wang felt pinned by her sight shot from the top of her pair of spectacles:

“Are you Chinese? Japanese?”

Mr. Wang answer :”I’m Chinese.”

“Speak English?”

“A little.”

“If you want to live in my place, you can not speak just a little English. “

Something in her tone provoked Mr. Wang, making him bolder:

Then more than a little, maybe. You see, I work for the Capitol Library, if my English is bad, they wouldn’t give me the job.

The woman rolled her eyes upwards, as of not convinced by what she just heard.

Forget it. But tell you something - you are living in my house, and every household has its rules. Here are mine: Always walk gently, I don’t see the point why you Chinese always make such noises when walking. Turn off the light and make sure the windows are closed before you leave. The Chinese like to leave the windows open and lights on. Keep things tidy and in order. I have to say that Chinese people are the messiest room keepers that I ever know. By the way, what time do you go to bed?

Around ten. Mr. Wang tried his best to suppress his annoyance.

Too late. All respectable Americans keep good hours. Go to bed early and rise earlier.

To such platitude Mr. Wang responded with a big yawn – which sort of worked. The woman cut short her speech:

I was about to tell you something more, but it is getting late, so we will have to find another time. But remember, live under my roof, you have to follow my rules; otherwise, there is a good chance that I will see you off. Goodnight, Mr. The door slammed shut.

Lying on bed, Mr. Wang was still absorbing the shock. It had been a tiring day, but the tender care he just received did enough to jolt him out of his craving for sleep, which was reduced to nil. How different the real Americans were from those that he met at the Christian school back in China, he thought, or those that he saw on the films. Back home, people thought America was land of milk and honey and envied him so much. They wouldn’t understand how the thought of the landlady made him shudder. Only if he were back home. He wouldn’t let anyone talking to him like that, he wouldn’t hesitate to quarrel. He would rather go sleep on the street rather than put up with such humiliation. Patience, he told himself.

The next morning when he woke up, the fatigue was hardly gone. But the terrible voice still rang in his head. He got off bed, with the foreboding that another censure would strike anytime. He didn’t dare to wear his shoes. Walking in socks, he felt like a thief sneaking in someone else’s home. He was so afraid that the landlady would suddenly break in and shout that he was being too noisy. Thank god there was a piece of carpet, so he wouldn’t soil his socks. After a moment, he sneaked out and washed his face, making sure that the marble basin was scrubbed clean when he finished. Then he returned to his bedroom to tidy up the bed.

The bed was wide, with width almost equal to its length. That made the work at hand extra hard. He had to go a half a circle to stretch the blanket, which was worn and washed for at least a hundred times. But no matter how hard he stretched it, it refused to cooperate – Last night, it was impeccably wrinkle-free; the place where the pillow was placed, a crate was made, like some American men’s hair. Now to great annoyance, the blanket defied his best effort to return to the state. As soon as he got the left side under control, the right rose up rebelliously, and when he got the foot side in order, the head side bucked into the air. Tired and defeated, Wong stopped and sat down. But in just a few minutes, his fear for the landlady got the better of him; afraid that she might come to tell him some other terrible things committed by the Chinese, he rushed to work again, despite his legs getting heavier and heavier.

The knocking at the door gave Wang a start. Must be the landlady who wanted to give another lecture.

It was rapid and he barely had time to get his clothes on, but not enough to wear his shoes. The door opened, without seeing who was out there, he bowed a ninety-degree bow, ready to apologize for anything that he was accused of.

But it was not the landlady, but his friend Mr. Fang, who came to invite Wang for breakfast and go to the government office to do registration stuff. Seeing the frustrated look on Wang’s face, Fang was rather confused:

What did you do last night? It is almost 8 o’clock, you had yet even properly dressed.

Wang said: I got up quite early, but couldn’t get the bedding stuff tidy. Something I may have to learn to do properly. Or maybe I need a wife to do it for me.

Fang laughed out loudly. This made Wang nervous and with what the landlady said in the back of his mind, he put his hand to cover Mr. Fang’s mouth.

Why are you laughing? He asked in a suppressed voice.

Why put your hand over my mouth?

The rule. The landlady hated laughter.

I laugh because you are such a country pumpkin, doing work that is not yours. Tidy up the bed, you don’t know that the Americans use a special tool that can do that sort of thing very easily? They also have machines to clear the floor. It is the landlady’s job and you don’t need to worry a bit about it.

Really? But I am afraid of her. She gave me a hard time last night.

Waiting when Wang put his clothes on the two went off for breakfast. On the way, Wang told his friend how terrible the landlady was. Then he went for work at the Capitol Library, where Mr. Wang asked his Chinese colleagues there not to visit him because the landlady hated visitors. But those Chinese had been here in America for so long that they were Americanized: some of them had cars, some had families, or “sweethearts”. After work, they had better things to do than visiting a bachelor like him.

After work, Mr. Wang had supper and took a lone stroll. A car taxi driver sounded the horn from behind. He must know that Wang was a foreigner by the way he walked.  

Sightseeing? Five dollars, you will see the best sceneries of Washington.

Wang didn’t care for sightseeing. Trying to evade his stalker, he turned a few corners, before he realize that he had lost his way completely. In the end, he had to take a taxi to get home. Cost him one quarter of a dollar.

Now back in his room, Wang was about to write a home letter. Then he heard knocking again. Must be Mr. Fang, he thought, or his colleagues. The door opened, it was the landlady. Dressed in black, the window looked like she was in mourning. She carried a broom in her hand. Wang entertained the idea that it was not a tool for cleaning but one that she would sit astride and shoot into the sky.

Mr. whoever – remind me your name please… I am rather disappointed in you that this morning you didn’t say good morning when you left. And then when you came back from work, you didn’t greet me either. I appreciate that you understand there is only my daughter and me in this house - she is fourteen, and just started high school, by the way. When you live here, I believe we should treat each other like a family.

Mr. Wong felt rather moved by the suggestion that they should be like a family. Then he realized that making him feel good was not her intension.

I would also like to know the reason you didn’t clean the basin this morning.

Mr. Wong protested:

But I did. I washed it with my hands! It was clean!

She interrupted impatiently:

When I say washing the basin, I mean using the towel to dry it up – that is a rule. If there is still water on it, it is not considered “washed” by my standard. If you want to live here, then you have to follow my rules. Neither do I want to hear arguments from you since we are certainly not having a debate here. Goodnight, Mr.

The door was slammed shut.

In Mr. Wang’s head, he imagined that the woman flew out of the window, on her broom. I hope you would drop in Romania and got burnt by the locals, he thought.

Mr. Wang’s life settled down. Everyday, he went to work in the morning and came back in the evening rather tired. He had yet acquired neither books nor friends. He didn’t know the town enough and was too intimidated to explore it alone. All he could do was walking inside the room, but he had to be careful not to make noise to annoy the landlady. After some walking, he turned off the light and imagined that he was in China, seeing through the darkness, he saw the gunfire and dead bodies. Bored, he went to bed. He heard tree leaves rustling. He calculated how many days were still left before Sunday finally arrived.

A few days later, Mr. Wang caught flu. Everyday he sneezed profusely and coughed noisily. Now the first thing everyday he came home would be washing the half dozen of handkerchiefs soaked in mucus.

He managed to keep out of the way of trouble during the weekdays. But during the weekends, every time he went out, the persistent taxi drivers would leave him alone, pestering him with the sight seeing invitations. As a result, he found himself spending more and more time indoors.  From one of the two windows, he saw the quiet street, covered in fallen leaves, scrap paper and cars. Below another, there was a yard, where there was nobody but a large dog, slow moving as if deep in thought. A young girl joined the dog and the two seemed to enjoy each other’s company enormously. The girl hugged the animal and nearly kissed him. Then she climbed onto his back and ride him, cuddle him, which made an exotic picture for Wang behind the window. Then the girl noticed him watching, was embarrassed and left. The dog stayed for a little longer and left too.  

Another morning, Mr. Wang noticed a handwritten note on the washing basin: No clothes washing please.

That night Wong went to say goodnight and explain to the landlady:

All my dirty clothes were sent to the laundry, only the handkerchiefs were hand washed for sanitary reasons.

The woman said firmly: You can’t wash the handkerchiefs in the basin; if you have to wash them, you should go to the basement, and only once in a week, that is Thursday morning.

Mr. Wang protested: He got a runny nose. He used lot of handkerchiefs. He had to wash at least every other day.

The landlady rejected his plea resolutely.

Then he asked if he could do the laundry at night, this too was possible.

Why You Chinese like to argue so much. I hated argumentativeness.

Mr. Wang’s face blushed.

Oh, mother… The daughter of the landlady interjected, who was angry at the mother’s lack of sympathy.

Mr. Wong couldn’t take it anymore, he asked some friends to find him another place. Later, decided to move to the International apartments – although it was a little far away, but he made up his mind.

The landlady was rather surprised when he made the announcement.

You are not bad a tenant why do you want to move? Isn’t this place comfortable?

Why? He smiled, thinking: This is not a debate. He would prefer to keep her guessing. He turned his head away.

A couple days after he moved, he remembered that he didn’t return the keys, so he went back to return them. The landlady was not at home. Her daughter was there alone. Seeing him, she said: Mr. Wang, you are a good man… But why didn’t you want to live with us? She reached for her hand, as if he was an old friend already. But mindful of the dog that she was intimidate with, Wang recoiled from her touch.

The International apartment’s landlady was once married to a diplomat. She spent a few years in Europe and spoke German and French. Although no longer in her prime, she was nonetheless a charming lady, especially when she smiled. Although the woman was different from the predecessor, she had her own dark sides – a good actress, she kept many masks in reserve - when she was dealing with Europeans, the British, French or German, she was at her warmest and most admiring; to south Americans, she was friendly, to the Japanese, she was respectful, but when there was a Chinese or Pilipino standing in front of her, she turned patronizingly compassionate. She talked about China’s plight that it suffered from the bad Japanese, giving one the impression that she was sympathetic and on the verge of tears; but when she saw a Japanese, she was almost servile, a sight hard to bear for a Chinese. The Japanese embassy sometimes sent their chefs to make food for the tenants, and the landlady would be invited as well. In contrast, the Chinese embassy always kept their door shut; all one could see was the silk stockings hanged on their balcony. Occasionally, they held a dinner party, but the landlady was never invited. This obviously affected the way that the Chinese tenants were treated.

After a year in Washington, Mr. Wang moved to Harvard University. The first week he lived in a professor’s home. During the day, he did research; in the morning and afternoon, he went out looking for lodgings. Needless to say, this gave him more opportunity to see more American landladies.

At the university dormitory, he got a sheet of housing rental information. He traced to the address, only to be told to go off:

We don’t rent to Chinese – Why do you want to bother at all?

Despite such treatment, Wang always made sure that he was well-groomed, clean-shaven, hair combed, before he left. He hoped that the landlady would be impressed favorably by his appearance. After pressing the bell, he always remember to say excuse me before asking about the house.

Some landladies were so old that they could barely walk, when they opened the doors, you could hear their rattling lungs.

“What do you need? ”

“I would like to rent a room.”

Then the old lady examined Wong from head to toe.

In a slow voice, she said:

“I am afraid I don’t have one for you.”

Wang said thank you nonetheless and left.

Sometimes when the doors opened, seeing an Oriental face, the landladies didn’t bother to conceal her disappointment; there were all sorts of pretexts to be made – The house was rented out already. Those who were politer would tell you sorry, whereas those who were less so would just slam the door shut. Sometimes the landladies would tell you that the room they were renting was too small – that you were just looking for a small room played no role in the situation at all. Some say that your house is too large, and she didn’t care if you want to rent a bigger room and plan to find a roommate.

There is a third type. Who would ask you if you are Chinese, Japanese or Pilipino. If you say that you are Chinese, she would tell you that she only rent to Japanese and Filipinos. But had you told her that you were Japanese, she would probably tell you that she only rent to Chinese. Some experienced would say that they were Orientals, but the American landladies would say that they wanted nothing to do with all Orientals and shut the door in your face.

There was a more tactful type. Who saw that you were Chinese and didn’t know how to turn you down, they would tell you with a slight stutter – I have to wait for my husband to come back and discuss with him before I can give you an definitive answer. He remembered that in 1938, he spent a full week to find a room in Cambridge, after taking all sorts of quizzes from landladies. If your answer was ready and your way of phrasing it pleasant enough, then it wouldn’t be too hard, but for those who were duller, and clumsy with words, you would in all likelihood receive a cold face that would stay with you for the rest of the life.

Occasionally, there were landladies who were so kind to the Chinese – they would even hug you. Even the housing they provided were not ideal and they would have the grace to invite you for a chat, a cup of coffee, or even dinner. Even though you decide not to rent the room – too small, too hot, or too far away, you feel being treated as a friend, or maybe you are already a friend.

After three or four years, Wong was already an “old American” in the eyes of new-comers – when he met friendly landladies, he sometimes asked why, the answers would usually be that about more than a decade ago, a Chinese tenant made a good impression – diligent, quiet, clean and had a good relationship with her children and generous - taking them to dinners, so they were willing to make friends with the Chinese. For those who said that they didn’t want to rent to the Chinese, usually the reason is that two decades ago, when they were young housewives, a Chinese tenant made a terrible impression – he was vulgar, constantly joking with women, had too many visitors and kept an owl’s hours, typing in the night, didn’t turn off the lights, his room always a mess, usually the impression outlasted the tenant, as they swore that they would never take chances with other Chinese.

There was once a landlady who was near-hostile – When Wang pressed the button of the door bell, she didn’t respond but walked upstairs. When Wang persisted and pressed a few times more. Finally, she came out:

I don’t like your people.

Mr. Wang was angered by such an answer:

“Did you go to collage?”

“No, I went to high school”

That perhaps explains your narrow-mindedness.

I am not narrow-minded. Had a Chinese tenant some ten years ago. Terrible man. Had lots of students coming to visit him during the day – loud talkers, impossible to have a moment of quiet. At night, his two American girlfriends would come alternately; would stay until four or five in the morning. While they were here, all the five lights would be lit and they would drink and sing and caused a immense stir in the neighborhood. We kept getting complaints from neighbors. Since then we never let a Chinese to come close.

It appears to Mr. Wang that just like Chinese thought Americans were all millionaires, the Americans saw the Chinese as ambassadors of their people. If the ambassadors left good impressions on the Americans, then the rest the Chinese would be automatically good; if this Chinese left a bad impression, then all the Chinese must be bad. Such epiphany gave Mr. Wang a sense of foreboding to the prospect of Sino-American friendship, it seems that all the good will can be ruined by the bad impression of one man, which is mightier than all the treaties, loans and aids.

Before and after the war, American housing supply was in short supply. This shortage was also reflected on the American housewives’ faces. All these signboards were gone. The house agents didn’t care to answer your enquiries – there were too many of them and no houses for rent. It was really hard time for the Chinese renters.

Under such difficult circumstances, it would take great amounts of luck to find lodgings; for those who were less fortunate, sleeping outdoors in the open was the only option. After three years, Wang finally found a place to have his family settled down, then the war began, within a few weeks, situation changed – rooms were plenty. However, this has nothing to do with change of American perception of the Chinese people or China, but due to that many American housewives had sent their sons off to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. For these people, they might understand that China was fighting the Japanese and although it had lost battles, it had yet given up fighting.

Finding a house was like finding a spouse, sometimes, it take a great deal of effort and you can still come back empty-handed, sometimes, it was so easy and all it took was a willing heart. If the house is a fortress, then this fortress had a weakness, which are the daughters of the landlady. If only one can impass this knowledge to the students before sending them abroad.

The Chinese students like to make jokes about the LLD, which stands for Landlady’s Daughter. Quite often the warmth of the landladies’ daughters made the Chinese tenant forget the coldness that they received from their mothers. Even when they went home, the warmth lingered. Many years later they could hardly remember the harsh landladies, but the good impression left by the good daughters had a way of staying in their memories, so much so that it was so overwhelming they forgot the bad things that they should better keep in mind.  










主笔:

艾伦·昭琼(美国)、埃纳斯蒂娜•佩伦(阿根廷)、安妮特·胡克(瑞士)、Bita Ashrafi(伊朗)、陈东东(中国)、程庸(中国)、褚水敖(中国)、华纯(日本)、河崎深雪(日本)、葛红兵(中国)、Gy holton(英国)、高海涛(中国)、妮吉娜(乌兹别克斯坦)、梁小曼(中国)、玛丽娜•波尔切利(阿根廷)、尼古拉斯·克托维奇(法国)、南妮(中国)、邱辛晔(美国)、萨莎(俄罗斯)、Sabine Hesemann M.A.(德国)、塔考姆•珀伊•拉吉夫(印度)、王宏图(中国)、王明韵(中国)、严力(美国)、杨炼(英国)、Zraidi El Houcine (摩洛哥)、詹姆斯·谢里(美国)

中文编辑:

杨笑(首席)、李玲玲、陈世和、郭睿修

英文编辑:

Amy、陈枫

本期编辑:

郭睿修

本期编审:

Gy·holton、程庸






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