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mes no one was there talking to me。 In the evening when the sun was setting； the courtyard was bathed in golden red light。 People ing home from work brought life to the courtyard。 Men and women chattered when drawing water from the well。 After school children played catching games around the courtyard； as they were running and laughing the black dog ran after them joyfully barking。 Everyday the scene appeared as the same。
During the day there was not only the black dog and me in the courtyard； there was also a Granny who was over eighty…years old。 She was my neighbor and utterly blind。 Most of the time she stayed in her house； sitting in an old armchair。 Sometimes the armchair was moved to the front of the door and she sat there a whole afternoon in silence。 No sound was heard from her so I often forgot her existence and in my consciousness there was only the black dog and me in the courtyard； but in reality there was the black dog； me and Granny。
One day I again sat under the big tree； reading Die Weltraetsel （The Mystery of the Universe） by Ernst Haeckel； a German biologist。 The chapter I was reading related to the life processes of human beings。 Haeckel said； the processes of life in the nature were flowing like the loquacious stream； the blazing fire； the fitful breezes and the collapsing of rocks from mountains。。。 I couldn’t help thinking of Granny。 I turned my head and looked at her。 I saw that she was sitting in her armchair not far from me。 She held a dragon stick with both hands in front of her chest。 Her head drooped； and the skin on her face was flabby。 Her eyes were slightly closed and she made no sound as if she was asleep。 She was always so quiet and serene。 What was she thinking about？ Was the river of her consciousness still flowing？ I wanted very much to ask her if she felt lonely？ If there were any other feelings in her mind？
I turned my wheelchair to her side and asked her loudly； are you asleep Granny？
No； I don’t feel sleepy； Granny answered。
So； what are you thinking about？ I asked。
I was recalling the days when I was a young girl and I was made a match； she replied。
I was so surprised； I opened my eyes wide as if a rainbow suddenly appeared before me。
With her eyes still slightly closed Granny said； when I was young matchmakers went to my home one after another。 My face was so fair； I always wore a flower patterned cotton…padded coat and my waist was only two spans。 My hair was beautiful； too； I always washed my hair with sesame flowers or egg whites。 My plait was so thick and black that when I walked the end swayed behind my back。 At the end of my plait I always tied a five…inch long bundle with a piece of red string。。。
What； a Granny of over eighty…years old was recalling her maiden years！ I was really surprised。 In fact； the old people still keep their mind young； which the youngsters cannot imagine。
Under the big green tree I went on reading The Mystery of the Universe。 During my reading the wings of dusk came quietly shading the setting sun。 In that moment； I almost forgot that in the courtyard there was Granny； the black dog； and me。
I continued to read my books in the courtyard as usual。 One day I went to a very dull page and my eyes stayed stubbornly on a line。 I raised my eyes and saw Granny sitting quietly in the sunlight with a gush of wind blowing her silver hair。 I turned my wheelchair to her side and held her hands； which were coolish； soft； flabby but gentle。 I asked her； do you feel bored all alone； Granny？ No； I don’t feel bored； she answered。 I sit here as if I sit on the roadside at the edge of my home village like when I was young。 Lively people are ing and going before my eyes。 The day when my husband married me was very lively。 My head was covered with a red head kerchief and I wore a red coat and a red skirt made of silk。 That day a big cart came decorated with red silk and was pulled by a mule and two horses。 It was the twelfth moon； the road was covered by thick snow。 The wheels pressed two deep grooves into the ground behind my cart。。。 Granny murmured very slowly with her harsh voice。 She raised her head a little and in her eyes I saw she had memories lingering from a year long ago。
It suddenly came to me the awareness of another meaning of life。 Once I had thought that Granny sitting in the solitude was waiting silently for her death to e and had no any expectation。 I had also considered how bored and bitter she would feel in her loneliness and darkness。 But； actually she was spending her days under the sunlight in so calm a mood。 Before her eyes the hands of the clock turned backward。 The lives of the past were ing back nearer and nearer。 She found the lost years and got from them new fort and pleasure。 The real life is the life in one’s memory； and the life in the memory is more vivid than it is in reality。 Life lasts forever in the memory。
One day Granny fell ill and was sent to the hospital； I felt very sorry。 People said that perhaps she could not get over such an illness； and perhaps she would never be back to the courtyard。 When I was alone in the courtyard I always recalled the days when there had been Granny； the black dog and me。 I felt lonely and sad。 Everyday I asked the one who sent food to the hospital about the condition of Granny。 One day someone told me that Granny could eat again； and when she opened her eyes she could clearly tell the stories of her ancestors and perhaps she would e back soon。
Granny did e back to the courtyard again and I was deeply moved by her strong vitality。 I then highly valued each day I spent with her in the courtyard。 Each day Granny sat there bathing in the warm sunshine and pondering over her past with her head leaned low as before。
That autumn she was visibly weakened and sat fewer and fewer hours in the courtyard。 One day she told me； I knew I would e back； I must be back and wait for him at home。 She said it was an autumn day； a day like today； leaves fell rustling everywhere； when my husband left early in the morning。 He was a good ironsmith； and wore a coat and carried a cloth…wrapper on his back。 At the door he said； you’d better not go out of the courtyard； for the baby’s just a month old。 When I earn money I’ll surely be back。 He said if he could not earn money he would be back before the end of the year。 I made a new cotton coat for him； but he hasn’t e back yet。 Since that day I made a new cotton coat for him every autumn； but he still hasn’t e back。 Now； I cannot make a coat； I can’t see anything； and if he es back I cannot make out what he is really like。。。
I caressed Granny’s hands lightly； they were very cool。 A few dead leaves came whirling from the bare trees and threads of cold rain of late autumn fell from the sky。 Granny suddenly shivered with cold and her hands shook a little。 She said； I feel bad today。 It is getting colder again； but why hasn’t he e back yet？ In murmuring so； tears rolled slowly down from her dim eyes。
The next day Granny was gone。 People of her family said that she got up in the middle of the night and made her way to the middle of the cabinet； and rummaged out of it the coat she had made for her husband。 She said it was cold； and she should go and send it to him。 She then fell asleep with the coat in her arms。 She looked very calm； and people said she had gone without any suffering。
That left only the black dog and me in the courtyard。 It snowed heavily that winter。 The white snow buried Granny’s long and persevering expectations。 In my obscure meditation there was often a quiet and a bit harsh voice leisurely telling a long story； which had no ending。 The figure of Granny had gone with the wind； but her memory still lives on in the green leaves of life。
What can I recall when I am old with my hair silver； I asked myself。
在这里，我期待着陌生朋友们的译文，我愿和你们一起分享汉译英、英译汉的快乐。
I’m the Terrible Trivium
我是可怕的Trivium
在我自学英语的那些年，曾有一段时间，每天只学习英语语法，因为我背了很多单词，却写不好一封长信，于是我就寄希望于学习语法了。我想，语法，不就是语言的法则吗？有一本书上也说，学语言就是学语法规则，就像学数学�