mar2005fall

第一次放英文在这里，感觉有点怪，罢了，不露丑难进步,故事单薄,水平有限

望各位看官，多提宝贵意见，如有语法单词错误或其他不妥，敬请指正          

My Dearest Friend

I had met you before I was born.

Or my Mum met your mum when we were still inside them.

It was a usual autumn day, not different from another one.

Yellow leaves were floating in measure down to the ground, recovering the crumbling wall where used to be our secret garden.

 Time passed, and good memory left.

Something changes and something else remains.

And I can tell them apart clearly, in details.

As far as my memory can go, at that time, you always rode your Dad's green delivery bicycle without his permission.

The bike was actually too big for you, although you were already one head taller than the others of your age.

You almost stood astride it and treated it as if you were riding a horse.

 But how kind you were that you never minded carrying a run at nose lady at back.

 Well, to you, it called for more energy to keep her smiling than to keep the wheel rolling.

We went through each narrow street, tracing the brightest sunshine, followed by the same naughty boys like you.

The resounding laughs and shouts, and songs out of tune drew attention of passers-by.

They turned back and chuckled and guessed where these noisy boys came from.

But you always kept silent and concentrated on gaining speed.

The whisper of wind slipped by my ears and I sunk into my illusion of flying birds.

Sometimes I recalled the old days just like that scene at your back, the ebb tides, but falling off with no return.

Remember the wall of our the backyard where there's a crack leading to our secret garden?

I often wander whether the elms are still springing and bursting into blooms as before．

And whether there are still some little boys climbing that tree and plucking youngfollage and tossing the delicate branches down so that their nasty fellows could share with their "war trophies".

Well, at that time, you really did so.

And I was one of them under the tree spreading my arms into the sky for those gifts of spring.

The thick fragrance mingled with sweat and dust.

We sat on grass and had them full of our mouths.

Mum always criticized me for my muddy dress and the absence of lady manners.

But I was so happy induging myself in the fun to take notice of her words, and you, my friend, you grinned with me.

Perhaps all the boys once upon a time dreamed this dream and the will of being a chivalrous man still remained till now.

You always regarded yourselves as chivalrous men.

And always played roles of all kinds of heroes who drew swords when came across their foes.

 But what you always drew were not real iron swords, but rolled up newspapers.

The story always began with the same outline.

Two forces met.

One stood for the bright side and the other represented the dark.

 Then they had a fierce battle and ended up with the justice side got triumph.

But a conflict came into being that all of you were quarrel to be the righteous one.

After all kinds of struggle, you decided to take turns.

One proud moment of me in your play was that I acted as a queen who was trapped by a bad guy.

Although what I was required to do was just stood aside quietly, watching you guys mowing down each other.

I supposed the game was one of the very games that were for boy only, which I will never be really interested in.

So I sat quietly aside and watched and idled and sometimes cried for your ignorance, although you were not deliberate to kick me out.

But now I realize years ago my silliness. How dare you guys treat me like a 3-year-old child!

As years passed by, the miraculous color of dream faded when you grew mature and grew old. I

t is a question of time, not the question of mind.

And the alternative finally open to you is either you abandon your dream or it abandons you.

And now, you stay comfortably indoors, facing the whiteboard, collared people and PC screen year after year.

Sometimes I felt an irresistible impulse to ask you do you still remember the happy childhood?--The precious old memory.

Will you treasure it?

In day of that lonely winter, gloomy light was flashing in front of our doorway.

Under enormous shadow of Chinar, walked us together after school abreast.

What we were talking about were beyond me, too ambiguous to recall.

But that process of time impressed me deeply.

It was mixed with bitterness, happiness and fear for the unknown future.

I always got lost, went crazy, and became dismal and kept asking you questions like where will we go and what will we be?

At that time you are one of my closest friends, maybe a little more than a friend.J

I still insisted on calling you my friend instead of just a neighbor, when several years later on dinner table with our old acquaintances talking about you.

I still remember that your appetite was always good.

And you liked meat more than fish.

 I remember your thick back and strong arms.

When you were thinking about something, your eyebrows would tighten up.

And after you got it fixed, a smile would ripple in deep side of your eyes.

 I almost remembered all the habits of you and described them to the others．

They laughed for my good memory.

But there was something else that I didn’t mention.

The memory of your warm hand wiped my cold tears, which was streaming down my face, in that chilly night of the lonely winter.

And your words.

You said goodbye, my friend.

You said you would leave this land forever.

And maybe never come back.

You said your family was determined to immigrate to another country.

You had no choice but to follow.

You said you would get in touch with me by all means.

And wherever you went, you would keep me in your mind.

And remember the old precious days we stayed together.

The wall, which divided our secret garden from outside is almost falling down.

Weeds are covering the zigzag fissure of all the crumbling things.

Without human being’s action, this paradise is set free.

That is the magic of time, which changes everything.

But I’m glad the elm is the only exception.

It still stands there, big and robust．

It is swinging with wind and whispering in rhyme, seeing cheer and sorrow, hearing stories and keeping secrets.

I’m wandering where you are now and what you are doing.

I’m wandering which woman you got married and whether she can cook good meat for you?

If I had the chance to meet you again, I will introduce you to my son in such way:

He is the person that Mum had told you before.

He is the dearest friend I ever had, before and always.

谢谢ＭＩＨＡ的细心和慷慨，改了许多语法错误，并在贫乏之处加以润色．也由衷赞叹她书写的英文的美丽．