一九七五年冬季一个夜尽之时,我在洪湖边伫立。当一切都在黑暗之中,天上和映在湖里的星光暗淡而疏稀,几乎看不到任何物体的轮廓和色彩。一层层没有光影的波浪无声地拥来,芦草和残荷在轻轻地摇动,成千上万的野鸭浮在湖面,保持着“精锐之师”的安静。偶尔有一条小鱼跳跃一下,发出拨动琴弦般的微响。 One night in the winter of 1975, I stood by the Honghu Lake. When everything is in the darkness, the stars in the sky and in the lake are dim and sparse, with almost no outline or color of any object. Waves without layers of light and waves lurked silently, with the grasses and their remnants gently shaking, and thousands of wild ducks floating on the lake, keeping the quiet of the elite division. Occasionally there is a little fish jumping about, giving a string-like sounding effect.