我父亲吃完了一根拤饼，脚踏着被夕阳照得血淋淋的衰草，走下河堤，又踩着生满茵茵水草的松软的河滩，小心翼翼地走到河水边站定。	FATHER FINISHED HIS fistcake as he stood on the withered grass, turned blood-red by the setting sun. Then he walked gingerly up to the edge of the water.
墨水河大石桥上那四辆汽车，头辆被连环耙扎破了轮胎，呆呆地伏在那儿，车栏杆上、挡板上，涂着一摊摊蓝汪汪的血和嫩绿的脑浆。	There on the stone bridge across the Black Water River the lead truck, its tyres flattened by the barrier of linked rakes, crouched in front of the other three. Its railings and fenders were stained by splotches of gore.
一个日本兵的上半身趴在车栏杆上，头上的钢盔脱落，挂在脖子上。	The upper half of a Japanese soldier was draped over one of the railings, his steel helmet hanging upturned by a strap from his neck.
从他的鼻尖上流下的黑血滴滴答答地落在钢盔里。	Dark blood dripped into it from the tip of his nose.
河水在呜呜咽咽地悲泣。	The water sobbed as it flowed down the riverbed.
高粱在滋滋咝咝地成熟。	Sorghum in the fields sizzled as it matured.
沉重凝滞的阳光被河流上的细小波涌颠扑破碎。	The heavy, dull rays of sunlight were pulverised by tiny ripples on its surface.
秋虫在水草根下的潮湿泥土中哀鸣。	Autumn insects hidden in the damp mud beneath the water plants set up a mournful chirping.
第三第四辆汽车燃烧将尽的乌黑框架在焦焦地嘶叫皱裂。	The fires were nearly out in the third and fourth trucks; their blackened hulks crackled and split, adding to the discordant symphony.
父亲在这些杂乱的音响和纷繁的色彩中谛视着，看到了也听到了日本兵鼻尖上的血滴在钢盔里激起的层层涟漪和清脆如敲石磬的响声。	Father's attention was riveted by the sight and sound of blood dripping from the Japanese soldier's nose into the steel helmet, each drop splashing crisply and sending out rings of concentric circles in the deepening pool.
父亲十四岁多一点了。	Father had barely passed his fifteenth birthday.
一九三九年古历八月初九的太阳消耗殆尽，死灰余烬染红天下万物，父亲经过一天激战更显干瘦的小脸上凝着一层紫红的泥土。	The sun had nearly set on this ninth day of the eighth lunar month of the year 1939, and the dying embers of its rays cast a red pall over the world below. Father's face, turned unusually gaunt by the fierce daylong battle, was covered by a layer of purplish mud.
父亲在王文义妻子的尸体上游蹲下，双手掬起水来喝，粘稠的水滴从他的指缝里摇曳下落，落水无声。	He squatted down upriver from the corpse of Wang Wenyi's wife and scooped up some water in his hands; the sticky water oozed through the cracks between his fingers and dropped noiselessly to the ground.
父亲焦裂的嘴唇接触到水时，泡酥了的嘴唇一阵刺痛，一股血腥味顺着牙缝直扑进喉咙，在一瞬间他的喉管痉得笔直坚硬，连连嗝呃几声后，喉管才缓解成正常状态。 温暖的墨水河河水进入父亲的喉管，滋润着干燥，使父亲产生了一种痛苦的快感，尽管血腥味使他肠胃翻腾，但他还是连连掬水进喉，一直喝到河水泡透了腹中那张干渣裂纹的拤饼时，他才直起腰来舒了一口气。	Sharp pains racked his cracked, swollen lips, and the brackish taste of blood seeped between his teeth and slid down his throat, moistening the parched membranes. He experienced a satisfying pain, and even though the taste of blood made his stomach churn, he scooped up handful after handful of water, drinking it down until it soaked up the dry, cracked fistcake in his stomach. He stood up straight and took a deep breath of relief.
天确凿地要黑了，红日只剩下一刃嫣红在超旷的穹隆下缘画着，大石桥上，第三辆和第四辆车上发散的焦糊味儿也有些淡薄。	Night was definitely about to fall; the ridge of the sky's dome was tinged with the final sliver of red. The scorched smell from the burned-out hulks of the trucks had faded.
咕咚一声巨响，使父亲大吃一惊，抬头看，见爆炸后破碎的汽车轮胎像黑蝴蝶一样在河道上飘飘下落，被震扬起的黑黑白白的东洋大米也唰唰啦啦地洒在板块般的河面上。	A loud bang made Father jump. He looked up, just in time to see exploded bits of truck tyres settling slowly into the river like black butterflies, and countless kernels of Japanese rice – some black, some white – soaring upward, then raining down on the still surface of the river.
父亲转身时看到了趴在河水边，用鲜血流红了一片河的王文义的小个女人。	As he spun around, his eyes settled on the tiny figure of Wang Wenyi's wife lying at the edge of the river, the blood from her wounds staining the water around her.
爬上河堤，父亲大声喊： “爹！”	He scrambled to the top of the dike and yelled: 'Dad!'
爷爷直立在河堤上，他脸上的肉在一天内消耗得干干净净，骨骼的轮廓从焦黑的皮肤下棱岸地凸现出来。	Granddad was standing on the dike, the flesh on his face wasted away by the day's battle, the bones jutting out beneath his dark, weathered skin.
父亲看到在苍翠的暮色中，爷爷半寸长的卓然上指的头发在一点点地清晰地变白，父亲心中惊惧痛苦，怯生生地靠了前，轻轻地推推爷爷，说：“爹！ 爹！	In the dying sunlight Father noticed that Granddad's short-cropped hair was turning white. With fear in his aching heart, Father nudged him timidly. 'Dad,' he said, 'Dad!
你怎么啦？”	What's wrong with you?'
两行泪水在爷爷脸上流，一串喀噜喀噜地响声在爷爷喉咙里滚。	Tears were running down Granddad's face. He was sobbing.
冷支队长开恩扔下的那挺日本机枪像一匹老狼，踞伏在爷爷脚前，喇叭状的枪口，像放大了的狗眼。	The Japanese machine gun that Detachment Leader Leng had so magnanimously left behind sat at his feet like a crouching wolf, its muzzle gaping.
“爹，你说话呀，爹，你吃饼呀，吃了饼你去喝点水，你不吃不喝会渴死饿死的。”	'Say something, Dad. Eat that fistcake, then drink some water. You'll die if you don't eat or drink.'
爷爷的脖子往前一折，脑袋耷拉到胸前。	Granddad's head drooped until it rested on his chest.
他的身体仿佛承受不住脑袋的重压，慢慢地、慢慢地矮。	He seemed to lack the strength to support its weight.
爷爷蹲在河堤上，双手抱头，唏嘘片刻，忽而扬头大叫：“豆官！ 我的儿，咱爷们，就这样完了吗？”	He knelt at the top of the dike, holding his head in his hands and sobbing. After a moment, or two, he looked up and cried out: 'Douguan, my son! Is it all over for us?'
父亲怔怔地看着爷爷。 父亲的双眼大睁，从那两粒钻石一样的瞳孔里，散射出本来属于我奶奶的那种英勇无畏、狂放不羁的响马精神，那种黑暗王国里的希望之光，照亮了我爷爷的心头。	Father stared wide-eyed and fearfully at Granddad. The glare in his diamondlike pupils embodied the heroic, unrestrained spirit of Grandma, a flicker of hope that shone and lit up Granddad's heart.
“爹，”父亲说，“你别愁，我好好练枪，像你当年绕着水湾子打鱼那样练，练出七点梅花枪，就去找冷麻子这个狗娘养的王八蛋算帐！”	'Dad,' Father said, 'don't give up. I'll work hard on my shooting, like when you shot fish at the inlet to perfect your seven-plum-blossom skill. Then we'll go settle accounts with that rotten son of a bitch Pocky Leng!'
爷爷腾地跳起，咆哮三声，半像恸哭半像狂笑。	Granddad sprang to his feet and bellowed three times – half wail, half crazed laughter.
从他的嘴唇正中，流出一线乌紫的血。	A line of dark-purple blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.
“说得是！ 儿子，说得好！”	'That's it, son, that's the way to talk!'
爷爷从黑土大地上捡起我奶奶亲手制造的拤饼，大口吞吃，焦黄的牙齿上，沾着饼屑和一个个血泡沫。	He picked up one of Grandma's fistcakes from the dark earth, bit off a chunk, and swallowed it. Cake crumbs and flecks of bubbly blood stuck to his stained teeth.
父亲听到爷爷被饼噎得哦哦地叫，看到那些棱角分明的饼块从爷爷的喉咙里缓慢地往下蠕动。	Father heard Granddad's painful cries as the dry cake stuck in his throat and saw the rough edges make their way down his neck.
父亲说： “爹，你下河喝点水把肚子里的饼泡泡吧。”	'Dad,' Father said, 'go drink some water to soak up the cake in your belly.'
爷爷趔趔趄趄走下河堤，双膝跪在水草上，伸出长长的颈，像骡马一样饮着水。	Granddad stumbled along the dike to the river's edge, where he knelt among the water plants and lapped up the water like a draught animal.
喝完水，父亲见爷爷双手撑开，把整个头颅和半截脖子扎进河水里，河水碰到障碍，激起一簇簇鲜艳的浪花。 爷爷把头放在水里泡了足有半袋烟的工夫——	When he'd had his fill, he drew his hands back and buried his head in the river, holding it under the water for about half the time it takes to smoke a pipeful of tobacco.
父亲在堤上看着像一个铜铸蛤蟆一样的他的爹，心里一阵阵发紧——	Father started getting nervous as he gazed at his dad, frozen like a bronze frog at the river's edge.
爷爷呼拉拉扬起了浸透了的头，呼哧呼哧地喘着粗气，站起来，上了河堤，站在父亲面前。 父亲看到爷爷的头上往下滚动着水珠。	Finally, Granddad jerked his dripping head out of the water and gasped for breath. Then he walked back up the dike to stand in front of Father, whose eyes were glued to the cascading drops of water.
爷爷甩甩头，把四十九颗大小不一的水珠甩出去，如扬撒了一片珍珠。	Granddad shook his head, sending forty-nine drops, large and small, flying like so many pearls.
“豆官，”爷爷说，“跟爹一起，去看看弟兄们吧！”	'Douguan,' he said, 'come with Dad. Let's go see the men.'
爷爷踉踉跄跄地在路西边的高粱地里穿行着，父亲紧跟着爷爷走。	Granddad staggered down the road, weaving in and out of the sorghum field on the western edge, Father right on his heels.
他们脚踩着残断曲折的高粱和发出微弱黄光的铜弹壳，不时弯腰俯头，看着那些横卧竖躺、龇牙咧嘴的队员们。	They stepped on broken, twisted stalks of sorghum and spent cartridges that gave off a faint yellow glint. Frequently they bent down to look at the bodies of their fallen comrades, who lay amid the sorghum, deathly grimaces frozen on their faces.
他们都死了，爷爷和父亲扳动着他们，希望能碰上个活的，但他们都死了。	Granddad and Father shook them in hope of finding one who was alive; but they were dead, all of them.
父亲和爷爷手上，沾满了粘乎乎的血。	Father's and Granddad's hands were covered with sticky blood.
父亲看到最西边两个队员，一个含着土枪口，后颈窝那儿，烂乎乎一大片，像一个捅烂的蜂窝；另一个则俯在地上，胸口上扎进了一把尖刀。	Father looked down at two soldiers on the westernmost edge of the field: one lay with the muzzle of his shotgun in his mouth, the back of his neck a gory mess, like a rotten wasps' nest; the other lay across a bayonet buried in his chest.
爷爷翻看着他们，父亲看到他们被打断了的腿和打破了的小腹。	When Granddad turned them over, Father saw that their legs had been broken and their bellies slit open.
爷爷叹了一口气，把土枪从那个队员口里拔出来，把尖刀从那个队员胸口里撕出来。	Granddad sighed as he withdrew the shotgun from the one soldier's mouth and pulled the bayonet from the other's chest.
父亲跟着爷爷走过因天空的灰暗而变得明亮起来的公路，在路东边那片同样被扫射得七零八落的高粱地里，翻看着那些东一个西一个的弟兄们。	Father followed Granddad across the road, into the sorghum field to the east, which had also been swept by machine-gun fire. They turned over the bodies of more soldiers lying strewn across the ground.
刘大号还跪在那里，双手端着大喇叭，保持着吹奏的姿式。	Bugler Liu was on his knees, bugle in hand, as though he were blowing it.
爷爷兴奋地大叫：“刘大号！”	'Bugler Liu!' Granddad called out excitedly.
大号一声不吭。	No response.
父亲上去推了他一把，喊一声：“大叔！” 那根大喇叭掉在地上，低头看时，吹号人的脸已经像石头般僵硬了。	Father ran up and nudged him. 'Uncle Liu!' he shouted, as the bugle dropped to the ground. When Father looked more closely, he discovered that the bugler's face was already as hard as a rock.
在离开河堤几十步远，伤损不太严重的高粱地里，爷爷和父亲找到了被打出了肠子的方七和另一个叫“痨痨四”的队员（他排行四，小时得过肺痨病），痨痨四大腿上中了一枪，因流血过多，已昏迷过去。	In the lightly scarred section of field some few dozen paces from the dike, Granddad and Father came upon Fang Seven, whose guts had spilled out of his belly, and another soldier, named Consumptive Four, who, after taking a bullet in the leg, had fainted from blood loss.
爷爷把沾满人血的手放在他的唇边。 还能感到从他的鼻孔里，喷出焦灼干燥的气息。	Holding his bloodstained hand above the man's mouth, Granddad detected a faint sign of dry, hot breath from his nostrils.
方七的肠子已经塞进肚子，伤口处堵着一把高粱叶子。	Fang Seven had stuffed his own intestines back into his abdomen and covered the gaping wound with sorghum leaves.
他还省人事，见到爷爷和父亲，抽搐着嘴唇说：“司令…… 我完了……	He was still conscious. When he spotted Granddad and Father, his lips twitched and he said haltingly, 'Commander . . . done for . . .
你见了俺老婆…… 给她点钱……	When you see my old lady . . . give some money. . . .
别让她改嫁……	Don't let her remarry. . . .
俺哥没有后……	My brother . . . no sons . . .
她要走了……	If she leaves . . .
方家就断了香火啦……”	Fang family line ended. . . .'
父亲知道方七有个一岁多的儿子，方七的老婆有一对葫芦那么大的奶子，奶汁旺盛，灌得个孩子又鲜又嫩。	Father knew that Fang Seven had a year-old son, and that there was so much milk in his mother's gourdlike breasts that he was growing up fair and plump.
爷爷说：“兄弟，我背你回去。”	'I'll carry you back, little brother,' Granddad said.
爷爷蹲下，拉着方七的胳膊往背上一拖，方七惨叫一声，父亲看到那团堵住方七伤口的高粱叶子掉了，一嘟噜白花花的肠子，夹带着热乎乎的腥臭气，从伤口里蹿出来。	He bent over and pulled Fang Seven onto his back. As Fang screeched in pain, Father saw the leaves fall away and his white, speckled intestines slither out of his belly, releasing a breath of foul hot air.
爷爷把方七放下，方七连声哀鸣着：“大哥…… 行行好……	Granddad laid him back down on the ground. 'Elder brother,' Fang pleaded, 'put me out of my misery. . . .
别折腾我啦……	Don't torture me. . . .
补我一枪吧……”	Shoot me, please. . . .'
爷爷蹲下去，握着方七的手，说：“兄弟，我背你去找张辛一，张先生，他能治红伤。”	Granddad squatted down and held Fang Seven's hand. 'Little brother, I can carry you over to see Zhang Xinyi, Dr Zhang. He'll patch you up.'
“大哥…… 快点吧……	'Elder brother . . . do it now. . . .
别让我受啦……	Don't make me suffer. . . .
我不中用啦……”	Past saving . . .'
爷爷眯着眼，仰望着缀着十几颗璀璨星辰的混沌渺茫的八月的黄昏的天空，长啸一声，对我父亲说：“豆官，你那枪里，还有火吗？”	Granddad squinted into the murky, late-afternoon August sky, in which a dozen or so stars shone brightly, and let out a long howl before turning to Father. 'Are there bullets in your gun, Douguan?'
父亲说：“还有。”	'Yes.'
爷爷接过父亲递给他的左轮手枪，扳开机关，对着焦黄的天光，看了一眼，把枪轮子一转。	Father handed his pistol to Granddad, who released the safety catch, took another look into the darkening sky, and spun the cylinder.
爷爷说：“七弟，你放心走吧，有我余占鳌吃的，就饿不着弟媳和大侄子。”	'Rest easy, brother. As long as Yu Zhan'ao has food to eat, your wife and child will never go hungry.'
方七点点头，闭上眼睛。	Fang Seven nodded and closed his eyes.
爷爷举着左轮手枪，像举着一块千斤巨石，整个儿人，都在重压下颤栗。	Granddad raised the revolver as though he were lifting a huge boulder. The pressure of the moment made him quake.
方七睁开眼，说：“大哥……”	Fang Seven's eyes snapped open. 'Elder brother . . .'
爷爷猛一别脸，枪口迸出一团火光，照明了方七青溜溜的头皮。	Granddad spun his face away, and a burst of flame leaped out of the muzzle, lighting up Fang Seven's greenish scalp.
半跪着的方七迅速前栽，上身伏在自己流出来的肠子上。	The kneeling man shot forward and fell on top of his own exposed guts.
父亲无法相信，一个人的肚子里竟然能盛得下那么多肠子。	Father found it hard to believe that a man's belly could hold such a pile of intestines.
“‘痨痨四’，你也一路去了吧，早死早投生，回来再跟这帮东洋杂种们干！”	'Consumptive Four, you'd better be on your way, too. Then you can get an early start on your next life and come back to seek revenge on those Jap bastards!'
爷爷把左轮手枪里仅存的一颗子弹，打进了命悬一线的“痨痨四”的心窝。	He pumped the last cartridge into the heart of the dying Consumptive Four.
杀人如麻的爷爷，打死“痨痨四”之后，左轮手枪掉在地上，他的胳膊像死蛇一样垂着，再也无力抬起来了。	Though killing had become a way of life for Granddad, he dropped his arm to his side and let it hang there like a dead snake; the pistol fell to the ground.
父亲从地上捡起手枪，插进腰里，扯扯如醉如痴的爷爷，说：“爹，回家去吧。 爹，回家去吧……”	Father bent over and picked it up, stuck it into his belt, and tugged on Granddad, who stood as though drunk or paralysed. 'Let's go home, Dad, let's go home. . . .'
“回家，回家？	'Home? Go home?
回家！	Yes, go home!
回家……” 爷爷说。	Go home . . .'
父亲拉着爷爷，爬上河堤，笨拙地往西走去。	Father pulled him up onto the dike and began walking awkwardly towards the west.
八月初九的大半个新月亮已经挂上了天，冰凉的月光照着爷爷和父亲的背，照着沉重如伟大笨拙的汉文化的墨水河。	The cold rays of the half-moon on that August 9 evening filled the sky, falling lightly on the backs of Granddad and Father and illuminating the heavy Black Water River, which was like the great but clumsy Chinese race.
被血水撩拨得精神亢奋的白鳝鱼在河里飞腾打旋，一道道银色的弧光在河面上跃来跃去。	White eels, thrown into a frenzy by the bloody water, writhed and sparkled on the surface.
河里泛上来的蓝蓝的凉气和高粱地里弥散开来的红红的暖气在河堤上交锋汇合，化合成轻清透明的薄雾。 父亲想起凌晨出征时那场像胶皮一样富有弹性的大雾，这一天过得像十年那么长，又像一眨么眼皮那么短。	The blue chill of the water merged with the red warmth of the sorghum bordering the dikes to form an airy, transparent mist that reminded Father of the heavy, spongy fog that had accompanied them as they set out for battle that morning. Only one day, but it seemed like ten years. Yet it also seemed like the blink of an eye.
父亲想起在弥漫的大雾中他的娘站在村头上为他送行，那情景远在天边，近在眼前。	Father thought back to how his mother had walked him to the edge of the fog-enshrouded village. The scene seemed so far away, though it was right there in front of his eyes.
他想起行军高粱地中的艰难，想起王文义被流弹击中耳朵，想起五十几个队员在公路上像羊拉屎一样往大桥开进，还有哑巴那锋利的腰刀，阴鸷的眼睛，在空中飞行的鬼子头颅，老鬼子干瘪的屁股……	He recalled how difficult the march through the sorghum field had been, how Wang Wenyi had been wounded in the ear by a stray bullet, how the fifty or so soldiers had approached the bridge looking like the droppings of a goat. Then there was Mute's razor-sharp sabre knife, the sinister eyes, the Jap head sailing through the air, the shrivelled ass of the old Jap officer . . .
像凤凰展翅一样扑倒在河堤上的娘…… 拤饼…… 遍地打滚的拤饼…… 纷纷落地的红高粱…… 像英雄一样纷纷倒下的红高粱……	Mother soaring to the top of the dike as though on the wings of a phoenix . . . the fistcakes . . . fistcakes rolling on the ground . . . stalks of sorghum falling all around . . . red sorghum crumpling like fallen heroes. . . .
爷爷把睡着走的我父亲背起来，用一只受伤的胳膊，一只没受伤的胳膊，揽住我父亲的两条腿弯子。	Granddad hoisted Father, who was asleep on his feet, onto his back and wrapped his arms – one healthy, the other injured – around Father's legs.
父亲腰里的左轮手枪硌着爷爷的背，爷爷心里一阵巨痛。	The pistol in Father's belt banged against Granddad's back, sending sharp pains straight to his heart.
这是又黑又瘦又英俊又有大学问的任副官的左轮手枪。	It had belonged to the dark, skinny, handsome, and well-educated Adjutant Ren.
爷爷想到这支枪打死了任副官，又打死了方七、“痨痨四”，爷爷恨不得把它扔到黑水河里，这个不祥的家伙。	Granddad was thinking about how this pistol had ended the lives of Adjutant Ren, Fang Seven, and Consumptive Four. He wanted nothing more than to heave the execrable thing into the Black Water River.
他只是想着扔，身体却弓一弓，把睡在背上的儿子往上颠颠，也是为了减缓那种锥心的痛疼。	But it was only a thought. Bending over, he shifted his sleeping son higher up on his back, partly to relieve the excruciating pain in his heart.
爷爷走着，他已经感觉不到自己的腿在何处，只是凭着一种走的强烈意念，在僵硬的空气的浊浪中，困难地挣扎。	All that kept Granddad moving was a powerful drive to push on and continue the bitter struggle against wave after murky wave of obdurate air.
爷爷在昏昏沉沉中，听到从前方传来了浪潮一样的喧嚷。	In his dazed state he heard a loud clamour rushing towards him like a tidal wave.
抬头看时，见远处的河堤上，蜿蜒着一条火的长龙。	When he raised his head he spotted a long fiery dragon wriggling its way along the top of the dike.
爷爷凝眸片刻，眼前一阵迷蒙一阵清晰，迷蒙时见那长龙张牙舞爪，腾云驾雾，抖搂的满身金鳞索落落地响，并且风吼云嘶，电闪雷鸣，万声集合，似雄风横扫着雌伏的世界；	His eyes froze, as the image slipped in and out of focus. When it was blurred he could see the dragon's fangs and claws as it rode the clouds and sailed through the mist, the vigorous motions making its golden scales jangle; wind howled, clouds hissed, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, the sounds merging to form a masculine wind that swept across a huddled feminine world.
清晰时则辨出那是九十九支火把，由数百的人簇拥着跑过来。	When it was clear he could see it was ninety-nine torches hoisted above the heads of hundreds of people hastening towards him.
火光起伏跳荡，照亮了河南河北的高粱。	The dancing flames lit up the sorghum on both banks of the river.
前边的火把照着后边的人，后边的火把照着前边的人。	
爷爷把父亲从背上放下，用力摇晃着，喊叫着： “豆官！ 豆官！	Granddad lifted Father down off his back and shook him hard. 'Douguan,' he shouted in his ear, 'Douguan!
醒醒！	Wake up!
醒醒！	Wake up!
乡亲们接应我们来了，乡亲们来了……”	The villagers are coming for us, they're coming. . . .'
父亲听到爷爷嗓音沙哑；父亲看到两颗相当出色的眼泪，蹦出了爷爷的眼睛。	Father heard the hoarseness in Granddad's voice and saw two remarkable tears leap out of his eyes.
爷爷刺杀单廷秀父子时，年方二十四岁。	GRANDDAD WAS ONLY twenty-four when he murdered Shan Tingxiu and his son.
虽然我奶奶与他已经在高粱地里凤凰和谐，在那个半是痛苦半是幸福的庄严过程中，我奶奶虽然也怀上了我的功罪参半但毕竟是高密东北乡一代风流的父亲，但那时奶奶是单家的明媒正娶的媳妇，爷爷与她总归是桑间濮上之合，带着相当程度的随意性偶然性不稳定性，况且我父亲也没落土，所以，写到那时候的事，我还是称呼他余占鳌更为准确。	Even though by then he and Grandma had already done the phoenix dance in the sorghum field, and even though, in the solemn course of suffering and joy, she had conceived my father, whose life was a mixture of achievements and sin (in the final analysis, he gained distinction among his generation of citizens of Northeast Gaomi Township), she had nonetheless been legally married into the Shan family. So she and Granddad were adulterers, their relationship marked by measures of spontaneity, chance, and uncertainty. And since Father wasn't born while they were together, accuracy demands that I refer to Granddad as Yu Zhan'ao in writing about this period.
当时，我奶奶痛苦欲绝对余占鳌说，她的法定的丈夫单扁郎是个麻风病人，余占鳌用那柄锋利的小剑斩断了两棵高粱，要我奶奶三天后只管放心回去，他的言外之意我奶奶不及细想，奶奶被爱的浪潮给灌迷糊了。	When, in agony and desperation, Grandma told Yu Zhan'ao that her legal husband, Shan Bianlang, was a leper, he decapitated two sorghum plants with his short sword. Urging her not to worry, he told her to return three days hence. She was too overwhelmed by the tide of passionate love to concern herself with the implications of his comment.
他那时就起了杀人之心。	But murderous thoughts had already entered his mind.
他目送着我奶奶钻出高粱地，从高粱缝隙里看到我奶奶唤来聪明伶俐的小毛驴，踢醒了醉成一摊泥巴的曾外祖父。	He watched her thread her way out of the sorghum field and, through the spaces between stalks, saw her summon her shrewd little donkey and nudge Great-Granddad with her foot, waking the mud-caked heap from his drunken stupor.
他听到我曾外祖父舌头僵硬地说：“闺女…… 你…… 一泡尿尿了这半天……	He heard Great-Granddad, whose tongue had grown thick in his mouth, say: 'Daughter . . . you . . . what took you so long to take a piss? . . .
你公公…… 要送咱家一头大黑骡子……”	Your father-in-law . . . going to give me a big black mule . . .
奶奶不管她的胡言乱语的爹，骗腿上了驴，把一张春风漫卷过的粉脸对着道路南侧的高粱地。	Ignoring his mumbling, she swung her leg over the donkey's back and turned her face, brushed by the winds of spring, towards the sorghum field south of the road.
她知道那年轻轿夫正在注视着自己。	She knew that the young sedan bearer was watching her.
奶奶从撕肝裂胆的兴奋中挣扎出来，模模糊糊地看到了自己的眼前出现了一条崭新的、同时是陌生的、铺满了红高粱钻石般籽粒的宽广大道，道路两侧的沟渠里，蓄留着澄澈如气的高粱酒浆。	Struggling to wrench free of this unknown passion, she had a dim vision of a new and unfamiliar broad road stretching out ahead of her, covered with sorghum seeds as red as rubies, the ditches on either side filled with crystal-clear sorghum wine.
路两边依旧是坦坦荡荡、大智若愚的红高粱集体，现实中的红高粱与奶奶幻觉中的红高粱融成一体，难辨真假。 奶奶满载着空灵踏实、清晰模糊的感觉，一程程走远了。	As she moved down the road, her imagination coloured the genuine article until she could not distinguish between reality and illusion.
余占鳌手扶着高粱，目送我奶奶拐过弯去。	Yu Zhan'ao followed her with his eyes until she rounded a bend.
一阵倦意上来，他推推搡搡地回到方才的圣坛，像一堵墙壁样囫囵个儿倒下，呼呼噜噜地睡过去。	Feeling suddenly weary, he pushed his way through the sorghum and returned to the sacred altar, where he collapsed like a toppled wall and fell into a sound sleep.
直睡到红日西沉，睁眼先见到高粱叶茎上、高粱穗子上，都涂了一层厚厚的紫红。	Later, as the red sun was disappearing in the west, his eyes snapped open, and the first things he saw were sorghum leaves, stems, and ears of grain that formed a thick blanket of purplish red above him.
他披上蓑衣，走出高粱地，路上小风疾驰，高粱嚓嚓作声。	He draped his rain cape over his shoulders and walked out of the field as a rapid breeze on the road caused the sorghum to rustle noisily.
他感到有些凉意上来，用力把衰衣裹紧。 手不慎碰到肚皮，又觉腹中饥饿难忍。	He wrapped the cape tightly around him to ward off the chill, and as his hand brushed against his belly he realised how hungry he was.
他恍惚记起，三天前抬着那女子进村时，见村头三间草屋檐下，有一面破烂酒旗儿在狂风暴雨中招飐，腹中的饥饿使他坐不住，站不稳，一壮胆，出了高粱地，大踏步向那酒店走去。	He dimly recalled the three shacks at the head of the village where he had carried the woman in the sedan chair three days ago, and the tattered tavern flag snapping and fluttering in the raging winds of the rainstorm. So hungry he could neither sit still nor stand straight, he strode towards the tavern.
他想，自己来到东北乡“婚丧嫁娶服务公司”当雇工不到两年，附近的人不会认识。	Since he had been hiring out for the Northeast Gaomi Township Wedding and Funeral Service Company for less than two years, the people around here wouldn't recognise him.
去那村头酒店吃饱喝足，瞅个机会，干完了那事，撒腿就走，进了高粱地，就如鱼儿入了海，逍遥游。	He'd get something to eat and drink, find a way to do what he'd come to do, then slip into the sorghum fields, like a fish in the ocean, and swim far away.
想到此，迎着那阳光，徜徉西行，见落日上方彤云膨胀，如牡丹芍药开放，云团上俱镶着灼目金边，鲜明得可怕。	At this point in his ruminations, he headed west, where bilious red clouds turned the setting sun into a blooming peony with a luminous, fearfully bright golden border.
西走一阵，又往北走，直奔我奶奶的名义丈夫单扁郎的村庄。	After walking west for a while, he turned north, heading straight for the village where Grandma's nominal husband lived.
田野里早已清静无人，在那个年头里，凡能吃上口饭的庄稼人都是早早地回家，不敢恋晚，一到夜间，高粱地就成了绿林响马的世界。	The fields were still and deserted. During those years, any farmer who had food at home left his field before nightfall, turning the sorghum fields into a haven for bandits.
余占鳌那些天运气还不错，没碰上草莽英雄找他的麻烦。	
村子里已经炊烟升腾，街上有一个轻俏的汉子挑着两瓦罐清水从井台上走来，水罐淅淅沥沥地滴着水。	Village chimneys were smoking by the time he arrived, and a handsome young man was walking down the street with two crocks of fresh well water over his shoulder, the shifting water splashing over the sides.
余占鳌闪进那挂着破酒旗的草屋，屋子里一贯通，没有隔墙，一道泥坯垒成的柜台把房子分成两半，里边一铺大炕，一个锅灶，一口大缸。	Yu Zhan'ao darted into the doorway beneath the tattered tavern flag. No inner walls separated the shacks, and a bar made of adobe bricks divided the room in two, the inner half of which was furnished with a brick kang, a stove, and a large vat.
外边有两张腿歪面裂的八仙桌子，桌旁胡乱搡着几条狭窄的木凳。	Two rickety tables with scarred tops and a few scattered narrow benches constituted the furnishings in the outer half of the room.
泥巴柜台上放着一只青釉酒坛，酒提儿挂在坛沿上。	A glazed wine crock rested on the bar, its ladle hanging from the rim.
大炕上半仰着一个胖大的老头。	A fat old man was sprawled on the kang.
余占鳌看他一眼，立即认出，老头人称“高丽棒子”，以杀狗为业。	Yu Zhan'ao recognised him as the Korean dog butcher they called Gook.
余占鳌记得有一次在马店集上见他只用半分钟就要了一条狗命，马店集上成百条狗见了他都戗毛直立，咆哮不止，但绝对不敢近前。	He had seen Gook once at the market in Ma Hamlet. The man could slaughter a dog in less than a minute, and the hundreds of dogs that lived in Ma Hamlet growled viciously when they saw him, their fur standing straight up, though they kept their distance.